


The Wolf and the Dragon

by HooksandHappyEndings



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anal Beads, Brutality, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Marriage, Forced Orgasm, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-07-19 16:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7370059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HooksandHappyEndings/pseuds/HooksandHappyEndings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>GoT CS AU smut. Emma Targaryen is the crown princess of Westeros, but when war comes to King's Landing, her mother sends her away to secure an alliance with their cousins in the North by marrying Killian Stark, Lord of Winterfell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Last of the Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGERS INCLUDE dub-con, forced orgasm, dom/sub, and possibly some light humiliation because apparently that's the kind of fic writer I'm going to be.
> 
> THERE WILL BE MAJOR GoT SPOILERS AND SPECULATION! THIS FIC IS BASED ON THE THEORY THAT R + L = J ! IT TAKES PLACE A FEW GENERATIONS AFTER SHOW CANON! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
> 
> IMPORTANT: In this AU Killian and Emma are cousins but this is NOT an incest fic. I'm simply staying true to the traditional Westerosi feudal system set up in the books. They are technically related by blood and that WILL be a huge factor throughout the story but their familial relationship has not been fetishized in any way. Just for clarification: His mother's first cousin was Emma's grandfather.
> 
> Last thing: Please don't get up my butt about any facts I got wrong or names I misspelled from the GoT universe. This is just a OUAT AU for funzies and not a crossover. It is strictly for OUAT fans, although the family tree will make a lot more sense if you've seen GoT.
> 
> Honestly, though, it's all just a set up for smut anyway.

"The Bastard of Winterfell?!" Emma shrieked, "You want me to marry Arya Stark's bastard son?!" Her voice echoed around the great throne room of the Red Keep where her mother Snow sat on the Iron Throne, her father David at her side.

Snow closed her eyes, clearly measuring her temper, "Killian is not a bastard, Emma. He was legitimized by your grandmother on the day of his birth and he meant a great deal to your grandfather."

"He's a drunk." she spat.

"Well, the North is a... hard place and-"

"He frequents brothels, mother. You think I haven't heard the stories?"

"Emma," Snow said firmly in her most authoritative voice, "it is imperative that the Starks and the Targaryens remain the two most powerful houses in Westeros. The only way to ensure that is through marriage and children. The slave armies from Essos are already on their way. We will need Killian's men, especially his ships, if we're going to win this war."

"No, we won't." Emma said stubbornly, "We don't need anyone, we have ten dragons. No one can defeat us in battle."

"It's more than that," replied Snow, pleading with her eyes, "The Seven Kingdoms must remain united and, more importantly, no army from the South has ever taken the North. You will be safe there."

"How can you be sure?!" she spewed hatefully. She didn't want to leave her home. She'd never even been to the North and for good reason. "You married for love!" Emma yelled, "Why can't I?!"

Snow looked up at her husband. He had blonde hair, like his father. Like all the Lannisters. But he was a bastard as well, and Emma knew that her words cut him deeply. She just didn't care. Killian had been legitimized, sure, but everyone knew what he was. Arya Stark (made Lady of Winterfell after her sister Sansa's death) had refused to marry and was thought to be barren until she became pregnant at a very old age by a man whom she refused to name. She did not survive the birth, but her half-brother, Jon, who was King of Westeros and desperate not to allow his family's name to fade away, begged his wife Daeneryes to make the baby boy Lord of Winterfell and name him Stark. He was the last of the wolves.

"You know that we love you, Emma," her mother said sadly, "but this is what is best. Not just for you but for the Seven Kingdoms. Killian will arrive within a fortnight. You will be married in the Sept of Baelor and then he will immediately escort you to Winterfell."

"I don't want to go to Winterfell!"

"You forget that you're grandfather was a Stark. He was raised at Winterfell. He fought a war to win Winterfell back from those who stole it from our family. It is just as much your ancestral home as it is Killian's."

Emma rushed up the stairs and fell at her mother's feet. "Please don't send me away." she begged with tears in her green eyes.

But Snow's decision was final, and Emma was immediately taken away to be fitted for warmer clothes and a wedding dress. Her worse nightmares were coming true. She was being shipped away to a barren wasteland, doomed to share her bed with a notorious rake until the end of her days. She spent the fews weeks she had walking in the gardens, enjoying the sun which she feared she would never see again. Then, one day, Killian Stark arrived at King's Landing.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Emma stood in the throne room wearing a new dress. It was a striking shade of red with long sleeves and a black dragon embroidered down the side. Her white blonde hair tumbled down her shoulders in soft waves, a true Targaryen, unlike her mother who was all Stark with her black hair and pale skin. Emma looked like her grandmother, Dani. Everyone said so. She wanted to remind this Northerner exactly what she was: far too good for him.

When doors opened she held her breath. A company of men walked into the throne room, all dressed in heavy fur cloaks. They were laughing hysterically as one man spoke, telling a story full of foul language and crude subject matter. The flickering light from the fire pits cast shadows across the dark room. When the man was done speaking he turned to the royals as if he had just remembered they were there. "Snow." he sighed, allowing a grin to spread across his features, "My beautiful cousin. You look radiant, darling." He leapt up the stone steps and knelt before the queen, "I am at your service, my queen." He kissed her porcelain hand, letting his eyes wander up to catch hers. There was a glint in them, Emma noticed. She also noticed the pink blush that crept across her mother's cheeks. He was undeniably handsome, even if he did look just like a Stark.

"Lord Stark, I am so pleased that you're here. I was beginning to worry. You're wedding is tomorrow morning."

"Yes, well," Killian couldn't contain the knowing smirk on his face, "my men thought I should have a stag party. We went South to Dorn before doubling back. Silly tradition, I know, but... they are very jealous that I'm to be marrying a princess. And a dragon princess, at that. I think they wanted to see if they could get me to accidentally miss my own wedding. Dorn can be such a..." he waggled his eyebrow suggestively, "... _distracting_ place."

"Apparently they almost succeeded." bit out Emma tersely.

Killian turned to her for the first time with a smile that was genuine, if not lacking it's casual leer, "And you must be my bride." He stalked towards her, slowly, holding her gaze with his bright blue eyes, "Emma," Her name rolled off his tongue like he had named her that himself, "You are..." he advanced, groping lasciviously at her womanly curves with his blatant stare, "...even more beautiful than the songs say." He fell to his knees and took her hand, placing a warm kiss there, "It will be my honor to become your loving husband, my lady."

" _Your Grace_." Emma said sternly.

"Emma!" Snow snapped in warning.

"Pardon?" Killian asked, turning back to his queen.

"I am not just some lady, Lord Stark. I am Emma of House Targaryen of the blood of Old Valyria, Princess to the Seven Kingdoms, granddaughter of Danaerys Stormborn, Mother of Dragons and Breaker of Chains, and Jon Snow, the Prince that was Promised. I am the blood of the dragon, heir to the Iron Throne, and you are to address me as 'Your Grace' until I say otherwise or I will have your tongue cut out of your head and fed to my dragon as a snack. Is that understood?"

The way he looked up at her was not what she'd expected. He actually looked pleased. His lips quirked up at the corner of his mouth and he muttered, "Blood of the dragon indeed." then, with equal parts sarcasm and sincerity, he added, "Of course, your Grace."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

They were married the next day. All the great lords and ladies of Westeros gathered to watch Killian Stark and Emma Targaryan say the words that would bind them forever as man and wife. The feast was wild. The Northerners proved themselves to be just the sorts of brutes Emma had always been told they were, telling filthy jokes and drinking until they were belligerent with intoxication.

Even Killian was falling over drunk by the time his men were demanding the bedding ceremony. That was when Emma was grabbed by the Northern lords and hoisted in the air. They carried her out of the room, ripping her clothes off as she struggled to fight them off. They left her bare and seething with anger in the room she and Killian were meant to share.

The far wall opened onto a balcony overlooking Blackwater Bay. She stood there letting the gentle sea breeze whisper across her flushed skin. Her heart was pounding. She wasn't ready for this. She was a virgin, but that wasn't the point. This would not be a willing encounter even if he didn't physically force her.

"I've always been particularly fond of the ocean."

Emma jumped at the sound of his voice.

She turned. The Lord of Winterfell leaned casually against a stone column as if he had been standing there a very long time. She sighed, deciding that being combative wouldn't make this situation any better, and replied, "I suppose there's not much water in the North."

He laughed, "Oh, there's plenty of water. It's simply very, very cold."

Emma frowned. She couldn't remember ever being cold. The few winters she'd experienced had been short and mild. Nothing compared to the long nights at Winterfell where the snows came even in summer. "Then how do you know that you're fond of the ocean?"

Lord Stark pushed himself off the column and swaggered towards her, "I spent some time sailing with the Iron Born when I was a young man. Queen Yara kept me as her ward at the request of her brother Theon, who had a great deal of respect for our family."

"Your family." she corrected stubbornly, "I'm a Targaryen."

"Mostly, yes." he gently took her by the shoulders and turned her to face the bay. She could feel his lips on the shell of her ear as he whispered. "But I bet there's a bit of wolf in you, your Grace." his hands touched her body, feeling at her curves. When he reached her breasts her body betrayed her by trembling slightly when he grazed her nipple. "I bet," he continued softly, "that somewhere deep inside of you is a hungry animal, just waiting to be fed."

"Perhaps," she replied coldly, "but it does not hunger for dog meat."

Killian chuckled darkly as kissed her neck, "I am going to enjoy watching a dragon princess submit to me."

"I'm not one of your whores." she said sharply.

"Of course not." he replied, "Whores are boring. They do what you tell them to because that's what you pay them to do. Unless... you pay them to resist, which I have been known to do from time to time. But it's not the same. When they pull away," his fingers found their way to her mound which was bare in the Valyrian tradition. She tried to escape his grasp but he held her firm, grabbing her roughly between her legs with calloused hands, "when they pull away," he continued, "you know it isn't real. You know that they want to be used and told what to do. That's the thing no one understand about whores. You aren't really dominating them. They're in control the whole time."

"I will never be dominated." Emma said as his fingers began to rub circles around a part of her that had only ever been touched by her own hand. "I am a dragon. You're just a mutt."

That seemed to push him slightly over the edge. His movements quickened, turning harsh, sending warmth into her bundle of nerves. She whimpered uncontrollable and tried to escape again but he held her tight. "Have you ever seen a dire wolf, your Grace?" Emma tried to control her breathing. Her body wasn't used to the sensations overtaking her. When she pleasured herself she always took her time, working herself up slowly. He was pushing her fast. The feeling was intense, hovering on the border between pleasure and pain. He continued whispering dark words in her ear, "I have one. Obsidianis his name, sired by Nymeria and Ghost. He is large and fierce and as black as the long night, almost as tall as me horse. I've seen him tear a man to pieces in just seconds."

When Emma spoke her question was breathless, "Why would you order your wolf to kill someone?"

"I didn't." he replied, nibbling at her ear, "The man attacked me. Wolves are loyal and wildly protective. If you love them, and they love you, they will never let you be harmed."

"Dragons aren't as obedient as wolves." she said.

"Obedient? Oh, no, your Grace. A dire wolf is no pet. They can never be tamed. They are only loyal as long as they want to be. You, on the other hand..." then his fingers suddenly slid through her folds and she whimpered. She was ashamed of her body's reaction, but she couldn't help it. Her core ached to be filled, but she tried to ignore the want. "You will succumb to me. You will beg and plead for release and I will give it to you. I will watch the fierce dragon princess writhe in uncontrollable pleasure at my command.

"Never." she moaned, hating how needy she sounded.

When he entered her she cried out. She had never been filled before, not even by her own hand. The digit felt huge as it intruded upon her most private place. He laughed, "Now you see, _that's_ the kind of resistance you simply can't buy. Even the best whores in the world can't fake it. They want it because it's their job to want it. But you don't want it. You _need_ it. You _crave_ it. Your body is already desperate for it, despite how unwilling your heart may be."

"I am a future queen. You're just a bastard. You have no power over me."

He added another finger. Emma cried out at the intrusion and grabbed him by the wrist, but he was too strong, and her grip weakened when she felt him crook his fingers and rub at her walls as if beckoning her to come to him. "Have you ever touched yourself like this, your Grace? Do you know what happens when I rub at this spot?" he laughed while Emma began gasp as he went faster, "I'm sure you don't. I can tell you've never taken yourself like this. I'm sorry to tell you that, in my experience, if done correctly, the physical reaction is simply uncontrollable. Whores, tavern wenches, noble ladies, servant girls, even foreign princesses; they all come apart for me. No woman can help it. Not even a dragon." He brought his other hand to her clit and began to massage her there making her keen in his arms.

"Come for me. Your lord husband commands it."

"No." she bit out through a clenched jaw.

He began to thrust his bent fingers into her, making her see white as he laughed darkly in her ear, "You are a stubborn lass. I'm going to break you, just as I broke my steed. I'm going to ride my dragon until she's learned to be obedient and come when she's told." With that he forcefully bent her over the stone railing and pried her legs apart.

"I won't be taken like a dog!" she shouted, but he held her where she was.

"Not a dog," he whispered in her ear, "a wolf. A desperate, needy, wanton wolf who's going to beg me to allow her to fall apart on my cock." When he entered her it felt like he was splitting her in two. She tried to breath but he was so deep and there was an intense pressure on the place his fingers had been that was making her muscles flutter and contract as they never had before. He said softly "Listen carefully, princess. I'm only going to take you once tonight, but I have one condition. When you finally submit to me before I will allow you to fall you must admit that you're a wolf's obedient whore. You must scream it at the top of your lungs so the whole cit can hear."

"Never." Emma gasped, even as her body started to convulse around him. When he started to thrust it was hard and deep. She screamed out, her cries echoing over the bay. It took only seconds for the sensations to peak, and just as she was about to fall in hopes that she could hide her response the pressure was gone. She gasped. She was empty. Her walls pulsed seeking out the girth that had just been there.

"Say it, Emma." demanded, rubbing at her clit.

She took a deep breath, ignoring her own want and spat out, "It's _your Grace_ , Lord Stark."

He laughed giddily and before she could blink he was taking her again, this time even harder, while rubbing furiously at her clit. She peaked again, this time going higher than before, but just before the release came he was gone again. She sobbed out, trembling as he supported her weight, "Please!" the plea left her lips unbidden. There was nothing she could do. Her body ached for it. Her muscles were fluttering desperately, looking for the sweet resistance that would bring her orgasm but finding nothing but emptiness.

"Do you want to come, princess?" he asked cockily, knowing the answer.

She shamefully whimpered, "Yes, my Lord."

He chucked, nibbling a mark onto her neck, "That's a good, lass. Now, say it. Say that you're a wolf's filthy whore and I will allow it."

Emma clenched her teeth. She would never.

After a moment of defiant silence he entered her again, holding her waist with both hands and slamming her onto his enormous length. "Say it." he said again, and pounded her relentlessly, the head of his cock hitting that special place over and over and over again. When he left her once more. This time she screamed as her body felt physical agony as it was ripped from the edge of pleasure. "I..." she said, biting back the humiliation, "I..."

He slammed into her again. "Say it, or I'll keep you like this all night. Right on the edge. And in the morning I'll leave you empty unsatisfied.

"Please, no!" she begged.

"Say it."

Emma fought it, she did, but her body was being tortured by primal need, so finally, desperately, the dragon princess cried out, "I'm a wolf's obedient whore!"

"And what wolf do you serve?" he shouted, spanking her hard

The strike on her ass was the last straw. Heat began to spread from her core, waves of mind blowing pleasure as she had never experienced before.

"Answer me, Emma, or I'll swear to all the gods I'll stop. Tell me, who is your wolf and master?"

She didn't want the feeling to stop so she cried through the ecstasy, "Killian Stark of Winterfell!"

Fireworks exploded in her eyes as her body trembled uncontrollably, violently wracked with sensations that were almost too much. When it finally ended, she collapsed, but was caught by strong arms that swept her up and carried limp body to the bed inside. Emma slowly recovered as Lord Stark crawl under the covers next to her and gathered her in his embrace. She didn't fight him, allowing him to tangle his legs with hers and trap her possessively. He was no longer erect, meaning that his domination had truly brought him pleasure. She couldn't deny that she was sated, and his body felt good wrapped around hers. Somehow, she felt safe, despite his aggressiveness.

Emma turned in his arms and found his striking blue eyes staring at her. "Are you alright?" he asked, and the question surprised her beyond belief.

"I..." she wanted to say no, but that wasn't the truth. She felt good. Tired, but good. She knew it was simply a physical reaction to the act, the royal maester had explained the process to her when she became a woman, but it felt very real. He surprised her with a kiss, gentle and soft. Her lips parted, letting him in. He kissed her slowly and deeply, firmly cradling her face in his hand. It felt good. Better than her kisses with southern lords and kings guards. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his did the same to her waist. His bare chest felt good against her skin. It was warm and covered in manly hair. His ginger scruff scraped her skin. He was powerful, she thought. His roughness had been arousing, unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. When she wrapped her legs around him she surprised herself by saying, "Will you... do it to me again?"

He pulled away slightly with an amused chuckle, "Not tonight, my love. You couldn't handle it. I was possibly a bit too rough as it was." he scratched behind his ear, looking almost embarrassed, "Believe it or not, I didn't intend for that to happen. But you're little power play in the throne room was so aggravating and when I saw you standing on the balcony... knowing that you were all mine..." he smirked shyly, "I've always been partial to a rather... aggressive nature. And I have had a bit to drink. The point is, we'll have to wait until you recover."

"You could be gentle."

He winced, "I wouldn't trust myself to make such a promise to you. I've never had very much self control and you are... Well, ruining you permanently is very difficult to resist."

"I'm strong."

He laughed softly and kissed her on the forehead, "Your heart is strong. Your body is not. It is mine to care for now." he kissed her left cheek, "Mine to pleasure." then her right cheek, "Mine to worship." then her chin, "Mine to mark and possess." then her nose, "Mine to protect." and finally her lips, "Mine to love." Emma looked up and saw sincerity in his gaze, and a part of her believed him. "I will never hurt you, Emma. Never."

"You said I had to obey you." she said sourly.

"And you will." he replied, gently stroking her face, "You are a princess. If you wish to tear my tongue out and feed it your dragon, you have that right. No one will stop you. If you wish to slaughter my wolf and hang his head from the walls of my castle you can. There is nothing I can do."

"I would never-"

He silenced her with a kiss, "Hush, let me finish. We are man and wife. You are mine, and I am yours. We should be equals, but we are not. You are my sovereign, and I must obey you in all things, except one. In our bedroom you belong to me. Not to your parents, not to the Seven Kingdoms, only to me. And just as I know that you would never harm me or my wolf, you must trust that I would never allow you to be harmed. Not by my own hand and certainly not by anyone else. My commands will only bring you pleasure, your submission will only leave feeling you satisfied and loved. That I swear to you."

Emma smiled and brought her hand up to her face and felt the scruffy beard there. "I suppose I can let you keep your tongue, Lord Stark."

He grinned, clearly arrogant in his triumph. He brushed his lips against hers and whispered, "I think you're going to be rather pleased with how useful my tongue can be, your Grace."


	2. The Wolf's Toy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was shocked at the positive response I got for this fic! Thank you all so much for the encouraging reviews. I seriously thought there would be maybe one other person who liked this thing but apparently not. I'm so glad people want me to continue this.
> 
> I wanted to reward everyone that made my day with all those nice reviews yesterday, so I whipped up some completely and utterly plotless smut. This stuff is really filthy. Includes dub-con, anal play, delay/denial, forced released, rough sex, and dom/sub. You know. The usual.

Lord Stark and Princess Emma set off to Winterfell just a few days after their wedding. They left on an Iron Born ship and headed up the western coast of Westoros. making their way past the southern castles that lined the rocky shore, until they reached the Iron Islands.

Emma had grown rather fond of her husband by the time she set foot on Pyke, though they hadn't made love since there wedding night. She'd woken in the morning aching and sore, inside and out. By the time she was fully healed they had set sail, and the seasickness was too frequent to allow any romantic moments to present themselves. So as soon as they were settled into their rooms at Queen Yara's castle, Killian had a bath drawn, and Emma found herself walking towards the copper tub, peeling the robe from her body.

She slipped into the warm water. It ran the chill out of her bones, relaxing her muscles as she lay back onto his chest. They sat in silence for awhile, just enjoying being alone, until finally he began to lazily caress her body beneath the water's surface.

"Are you comfortable, your Grace?"

"Yes, my lord." she answered, and bit her lip when his rough fingers found a nipple to abuse.

"Good, because I have something very special planned for today."

She turned to him in the water, "What?"

He smiled wickedly, the devilish expression making her stomach drop, "I'll tell you in a moment. Right now I want for you to lie back and close your eyes." Emma did as she was told. She focussed on the friction his hand was now bringing to her center, playing with her sloppily, alternating between fast and slow until she was a panting, whimpering mess above him. As she writhed in his arms he said to her, "I have to say, your Grace, I'm a bit disappointed. I thought my dragon was going to be difficult to tame, but it turns out she's just a pleasure greedy whore who enjoys being obedient to her husband. Isn't that right?"

Emma could barely hear what he had asked her. Her body was on fire. She was aching for him. The pulsing inside her began and she murmured deliriously, "Yes, my lord."

He chuckled in her ear and asked, "Would you like to come, your Grace?"

"Please, Lord Stark." she whined back.

With that he rubbed furiously at her clit while roughly massaging her inner wall until she came with a cry. He used his legs to hold her thrashing body down as wave upon wave of pleasure washed over her body like the beach outside their window.

When it was done Emma was panting hard, her head lolling for side to side on his chest as he pressed smiling kisses onto her temple. She was just beginning to drift off into a sated sleep when he whispered, "I want to play a game with your body. Will you let me?"

Emma asked, "What kind of game?"

"A pleasurable game. An agonizing game."

She then asked suspiciously, "Will it hurt?"

He waited a moment before he responded, "It will be very... intense. Unlike anything you've ever felt before."

She thought about it. "Alright. What's the game?" Killian reached onto the cart next to the tub and pulled from within a folded towel something Emma had never seen before. It was a strand of five round silver beads, each about the size of a golf ball, strung together on a thin cord. Emma had no idea what the object was, but her gut was telling her to be afraid of it. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's a toy. An instrument that brings... pleasure. When used correctly, of course."

She looked at the balls, trying to guess their purpose, "What are you going to do with them?"

He whispered the reply huskily in her ear, "I'm going to put them inside you."

She gulped, "All of them?"

"Aye. I'm going to put them in..." he slid his hand over her arse and touched her puckered hole, "here."

"What?!" she jumped as if to stand but he wrapped his arm around her and held her tight.

"Shh... it's alright, love. I'll go slow. This is the perfect time. Your body is wet and relaxed. It will not hurt, I won't let it. You just have to trust me." After thinking for a moment Emma nodded and the lord instructed her to sit up on her knees and bend over.

At first it felt very violating. He pushed her arse in the air and spread her cheeks, exposing her to the cool air coming in from outside. She heard him taking a bottle of ointment from the cart and coating the strand of large beads until they glistened. "Now, listen very carefully. You must relax your body. It's going to be very tight and there will be a very intense pressure on a place you've never felt it before. You're body will want to come, but without any other stimulation it won't be able to. It's going to be very frustrating."

"This doesn't sound like a very fun game." said Emma grumpily.

He laughed, "The fun comes later. Now, relax, and every time I give you a bead I want you to thank me for it. If you don't you will be punished. Understand?"

"Yes, my lord." Emma bit her lip as she felt pressure in her very private place. When ball began to enter her she gasped. It felt enormous. "I can't!" she said, "I can't, Lord Stark, it's too big."

Killian shushed her, "Do you remember how I took you on the balcony?" Emma remembered. The images sent a lightening strike to her core. She had begged for him. He had claimed her with every inch of him. "You resisted, but in the end it felt good. I want to do that to you again."

She relaxed slightly and bent back over.

This time he was able to force the bead all the way into her tight hole. She whimpered and shivered and her inner walls convulsed. It was such a confusing mixture of pleasure and pain she didn't know how to react. He was murmuring things in her ear. Encouragements mixed with vulgar words to keep her calm and ease away the tension. The white hot pain covered her arse in an instant when he spanked her hard. Emma cried out.

"You're supposed to be thanking me, princess."

Obediently Emma panted out between stuttering breaths, "T-thank you, m-my lord."

He kissed her temple and began pressing the next bead at her entrance. That one was even more intense. He was right, there was a foreign pressure within her that made her ache to be stimulated deep inside. She was throbbing, like a finger that's been jammed in a door her insides were pulsing feverishly. He spanked her again.

"Thank you, my lord!"

"Good girl." he praised with an openmouthed grin.

They continued until there was just one more left, but Emma had reached her limit. "It's too much. Please. I'm so full."

He laughed darkly, "You're not even close to full. I know that it's tight but I know that you can do this."

"Can you..." she was embarrassed to ask but she couldn't stand it any longer, "Can you please touch me? I... I want to-"

"No." he said firmly, "You have to wait."

The princess only whimpered in response. She was surprised to learn that she liked being told what to do. All her life, no one had ever forced her to do anything, but this man didn't take no for an answer.

"One more, love."

Emma exhaled dramatically and forced her body to relax allowing the last bead to slide into her. Lord Stark pulled her upright so that she was arching her back to his chest, "How does that feel?"

She tried to form the words, "Um... I... I feel."

"Shh... I'm sorry I know it's difficult to speak. But you're not quite full just yet."

"Seven hells, you can't fuck me like this."

"Oh no, darling! I wouldn't, that would be far too much for you. I'm not going to fuck you. I'm simply going to stretch you." He began to guide her down so that she was hovering over his cock. "Come one, love. Not too fast. Easy."

He purred in her ear constantly as he pulled her down onto him at an agonizing pace until he was fully seated within her. She felt as though she were being impaled. While she struggled to catch her breath he said, "Don't move too much. Just let it stretch you. But don't fall apart. You were sore for almost a week after our first encounter. I shouldn't have done that to you. I should have stretched you probably.

Emma stuttered out her only coherent thought, "Will this... will this make you-"

"No." he laughed. But I have patience. You see, you're going to keep those beads in you all day. And all day your pussy will be throbbing and aching for me, and then when I finally take you tonight you will be extremely compliant."

Emma tried to be angry, but she was too busy focussing on stopping her walls from fluttering around him. She wanted to obey. She wanted to resist her pleasure until he gave it to her.

After a long while of her rolling her hips onto his in order to stretch her fully he lifted her off and got out of the tub.

"You're really going to leave me like this?"

Killian's lips parted to reveal one of his incisors, "That I am, princess. I will ravish you thoroughly tonight after my council meeting."

"Council meeting? Won't I be attending?"

"Why would you attend a council meeting?"

"Because I am now Lady Stark of Winterfell."

"Lady Stark..." he smiled lasciviously, "You know I hadn't thought about that. I rather like the sound of it. Perhaps that's what I'll call you when I fuck you tonight."

"I want to come to the meeting." Emma deadpanned, seeing red.

Killian talked as he pulled on his clothes, "one day, princess, you will rule the Seven Kingdoms. And on that day, I will patiently wait for you to return to our bed, but for now I am Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I have important business matter to attend and there is no place for another advisor at my table."

He began walking to the door. Emma quickly stood and got out of the tub but immediately cried out and fell to her knees. Every slight movement she made sent lightening bolts through her center. She tried to speak but could only whimper.

Killian leaned down to her, softly kissing her trembling lips. "Don't make any sudden movements, love. If I find out you've experienced pleasure that wasn't given to you by me you will be in very big trouble."

Then he left.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Emma Targaryen would not stand for such a thing. She was determined to go to that council meeting. After much struggle and agony, Emma was able to dress herself and find the room in which the council meeting was to be held. She crawled under the large stone desk and sat silently, like a sneaky child, until the room was full and the meeting had begun.

"Obviously, Killian, we cannot afford to send that many ships." The voice was that of an old woman. Yara Greyjoy, Queen of the Iron Islands, Emma suspected. They were to be formerly introduced the next day, but she already knew almost everything there was to know about the war hero. She had provided Emma's grandmother Dani with the ships she'd needed to carry her army across the Narrow Sea so that she could take back the throne that was stolen from their family.

She heard Lord Stark reply, "It's how many the Targaryens will need to fight off the invaders. I promised them the Iron Born fleet."

"Yes, Lord Stark, we are well aware that you paid for your bride with a fleet that doesn't belong to you." That voice was old as well, but masculine. It spoke with authority. Yara's brother Theon. Everyone knew the stories about him. But, unlike Yara's stories, they were whispered quietly amongst the lady's maids late at night. He had been Ned Stark's ward and had grown up with Emma's grandfather Jon. They were like brothers, until Theon betrayed Ned's eldest son Rob during the War of Five Kings. He'd joined his father's rebellion against Rob and taken Winterfell, only to lose it to Roose Bolton's evil bastard Ramsay. Theon had helped Arya Stark when she came out of hiding and convinced Yara to raise Killian until he was eight and deemed old enough to rule Winterfell. For that he was considered a friend of the Starks, but Jon had not felt so kindly towards him. He never forgave Theon for betraying his brother (iheir brother, he had once said to her). Not even after he learned what the sick and twisted Ramsay Bolton did to him after he took him prisoner.

"Yara, the Salt Throne no longer swears fealty to House Stark, but you will always be a part of the North. We remain united in times of-"

"Killian," the queen interrupted, "you are like a son to me. We will not break faith with you or your house as long as I reign. You can have twelve hundred ships."

"Thank you, my queen." Lord Stark replied, and the conversation turned to other matters. Emma lost interest in the conversation. She sat under the table, staring at the legs of her new husband. He wasn't so bad, she had decided. Twice now he had made her feel things she didn't think women could experience, and when he wasn't doing that he was being rather charming.

Suddenly, she was torn from her thoughts by a gruff voice saying, "Am I the only one who's going to bring up what we really need to discuss here today?"

"Aye!" said another voice, similar to the first in its Northern accent, "Should the Essos army make landfall in the North we need a plan."

"Well that's obvious," said yet another, "The dragon bitch is our way out. We can sell her to Essos in exchange for them leaving us the bloody hell alone."

"Aye!" someone else chimed in, "It's perfect! No matter who wins this war, those silver-haired sister fuckers will do anything to save their daughter, and the Masters would love to sell her pretty white cunt as a bed slave."

"Perhaps, when the masters bring slavery back to Westeros, you'll get to have a taste of that white cunt for ya'self Glover."

The replied with a booming laugh, "You mates want to guess at what me fist could do to her arse?"

Another cheered on, "Or what my cock could to her mouth."

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" With a loud bang that landing right above Emma's head the room fell silent. When Lord Stark spoke it was slowly, and with resonance, "My wife will not be sold to anyone. My wife will not be touched by anyone. My wife will not be looked at by anyone. Any lord, lady, king, or queen who tries to do cause her any harm, anyone who speaks of doing her harm, anyone who even thinks of doing her harm will have to answer to Obsidian. We all know how he felt about the man who interrupted me fucking your daughter, Lord Glover. Is that understood by everyone in this room?"

"Yes m'lord." they all said together. Emma smiled. As the meeting continued, she tried to think of how she could repay him for his protectiveness. She believed him when he said that he would keep her safe, and that was all she'd ever wanted. She looked at his legs, her eyes wandering to the laces on his trousers. An idea struck her.

It was something her lady's maid had once told her about. She said it was something that the women in Dorn did. They would use their mouths on men. She said that men loved it, that she had tried it on a knight and he had asked for her hand the very next day. Slowly, Emma crawled over until she was kneeling before him. Gently, she touched his leg. He jerked but that was all. Emma slid her hands up his legs and began to untie his laces.

When he was free of his confines Emma was shocked to find him already hard. He knew what she was going to do. She took a deep breath, and tentatively licked the bulbous head. His hips canted upwards, chasing her mouth. She opened as wide as she could and took him in just as another lord asked him a question. Emma was overjoyed to hear the way he struggled to speak. She was moving up and down, just as the maid had said to, and was surprised when she felt his hand in her hair, holding her tightly and controlling her motions. He took full control as soon as he was done answering the lords question and forced her down onto his cock. She enjoyed pushing back, resisting just a bit. At one point she gagged, and that was when Lord Stark ordered everyone out of the room.

"What's wrong, my lord?" asked Lady Mormont of Bear Island.

"I wish to be alone, to... think." he bit out as Emma worked his shaft even faster. When the door finally closed Emma found herself being ripped from beneath the table by her hair, "What the bloody hell are you doing?!"

She tried to answer but the large beads inside of her had rubbed at her walls when he'd moved her and she was once again having difficulty breathing. "I-I'm s-sorry, my Lord."

With nothing but fire in his eyes he pushed her back onto the table and untied her dress, revealing her to him. He kissed her fiercely, crushing her with his body while his needy lips dominated hers completely. "Did you keep them in," he asked, his voice broken and rough, "like an obedient wife?"

"Yes, my Lord." she replied, and winced as he pulled one leg over his shoulder, and then the other.

He said forebodingly, "I'm going to fuck you deep, Emma. Deep and very, very hard. At first, it will feel like too much but you're going to be a good wife and take every inch of your lord husband's cock, aye?"

"Yes, my Lord." she said desperately. She had never needed to be filled so badly in her life, but when he actually did enter her, she knew she had made a mistake. With the balls in her arse he could barely force his cock inside her tight quim. The moment he started pounding her she lost it. He hit a spot deep inside that instantly sent her tumbling down. Her insides clenched onto the large beads and his hard cock as she screamed through the ecstasy into his hand that was clamped firmly over her mouth. But he didn't stop there, he took her harder, and her second orgasm hit before she could recover from the first. It was literally blinding. Her entire body trembled under the waves until she was back to a fast buildup, already cresting even higher than the two before.

"No, please!" she cried, "No more! I can't handle another, they just get stronger every time!"

"Again!" He grunted, sounding almost inhuman, "Come for me again." He was pounding into her like a madman.

"Please don't make me." she begged, "Please, my Lord, it's too much. I won't survive another one!"

He sighed between thrusts and reached underneath her to where the a ring was attached to the cord connecting the beads. "One more. A big one. Then I swear I will let you rest." Before she could respond he pulled the string of beads from her tight hole triggering a full body spasm into a spiral that felt like dying. She thought that surely her heart would give out. The pleasure was too intense, like scratching an itch as hard as you can. He fucked her through it, not spilling himself inside her until she was warm and boneless on the table.

Emma came too, startled that she had apparently drifted out of consciousness. She was in the arms of Podric Payne, Lord Stark's most trusted guard.

"Take my wife to our bed," her husband was saying, "Bring her anything she needs. Anything. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Killian leaned down to cradle her face in his hands, "I'll come to you as fast as I can, darling. Rest until then." He kissed her softly on the lips, his blue eyes shining, and followed her with his gaze until the doors separated them with a final thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I plan on doing a lot of traveling through Westeros in this fic so if there's a place you think would be cool to see leave a review!
> 
> Not all chapters will be this worthlessly plotless, but I thought you deserved something for giving me an excuse to write this thing. It's gonna be fun!


	3. The Last Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the encouraging reviews! Please keep them coming. Every time I get a new one it just makes me write faster. This chapter is short but personally I prefer frequent updates over long ones. I've included a little more explanation into the convoluted family tree since some readers have never actually seen GoT and I don't want to exclude them. Hopefully you guys can keep up as the gene pool in OUAT is nothing compared to this lol.
> 
> Also, this chapter has some very light Dani/Yara shipping in it because that throne room scene gave me some serious vibes which is weird because I've never been a slash shipper. It won't be a huge part of the story, but in my universe it happened.
> 
> Includes dubcon and dom/sub.

"Are you enjoying your new wife?" Yara asked Killian as they walked along the beach at sunset. The sea breeze was brisk, the water grey. The Iron Islands never changed.

"I am. I think she'll make me very happy." he answered, thinking of Emma who was most likely still resting in their bed. He was anxious to return to her. She had truly shocked him with her actions at the counsel meeting. He had been Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North since the day he was born and therefore wasn't used to being so blatantly disobeyed. Nothing was more satisfying than fucking her into submission. His princess was frustrating and most certainly a challenge.

"Oh I have no doubt of that. You know, her grandmother was the best fuck I'd ever had. Had an arse like a stalion, that one. The sounds she made when I licked her were the most beautiful song I'd ever 'eard."

"Yes," he chuckled, "You've told me that many times."

"Dani was a great woman... but she was..." Yara sighed, "an imperfect ruler. Targaryen blood, it's toxic, Killian. She had too much of her father in her. She could be cruel. Her anger drove her to make many terrible mistakes. I loved Danaerys, and I was willing to die for her, but when the time came to take the Seven Kingdoms I knew in my heart that... I didn't believe in another Targaryen reign. No one did. We believed in Jon Snow." she smirked, "Despite the fact that he hated our family. Jon was a true Stark."

"Jon Snow was a Targaryen, Yara. He was just as much Rhaegar's son as he was Lyanna's."

"Theon saw it differently. He said that Jon was all Ned. All honor and righteous purpose. Good at everything."

"He wasn't very good at dying." Killian snarked.

Yara eyed him in warning, "He was a wolf and a dragon. That's the point. He was the heir to the Iron Throne, not Dani." Killian nodded, everyone knew the story. Jon, born of Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark, had refused the throne after having helped defeat the White Walkers during the Long Night, but the lords of Westeros refused to bow to anyone but him. Dani and her dragons were prepared to burn every castle to the ground but Jon prevented bloodshed by agreeing to marry her, and rule as her husband and Hand of the Queen. Their child bore both their names and ruled under House Targaryen, respected by all the people as a just and rightful ruler.

"Queen Snow is no fool. The Targaryens kept their power for as long as they did by not selling it away to make marriage alliances."

"You're talking about the... undiluted dragon blood."

"It wasn't popular back then and it isn't now, but Snow has managed to utilize it all the same."

He looked at her questioningly.

"She was supposed to be the answer to a divided kingdom. A Stark queen with the Targaryen name," Killian nodded, listening carefully, "but she doesn't have much Stark in her, does she? Lyanna Stark was her grandmother but the fact is Jon was Dani's nephew. For many, Snow is just another inbred dragon queen, destined to go mad like her ancestors. And Emma..." Killian warned her silently with his eyes to speak carefully of his new wife, "she is more dragon than wolf. But your children, Killian," Yara took his hands in hers and looked into his eyes, "your children will be more Stark than Targaryen. They will be free from the madness that almost destroyed Seven Kingdoms and for the first time, in the history of Westeros, there will be a true born leader worthy of the Iron Throne."

Killian smirked, "You will be pleased to hear, my queen, that Emma and I have already set ourselves to the task of making an heir."

"Good, but that's not the point I'm trying to make to you." He squinted his eyes, waiting for her to speak, "I've heard stories, about Emma. She's just like Dani. Willful aggressive, domineering." Killian tried desperately not to laugh as he was thrown into an image of his 'aggressive and domineering' wife begging for mercy from the uncontrollable orgasms he had ruthlessly bestowed upon her just a few hours before when he'd filled every hole she had. Yara continued, "The people followed Snow because they thought she was a Stark. She looked like a Stark and she ruled like a Stark. Emma is a dragon. All fire and blood. You must keep her on a short leash."

He laughed, "That will be difficult to do. Someday she will be my queen."

"That's what Jon Snow did. He was the only one who could ever convince Dani to do anything because she was madly in love with him. You must learn to control Emma. You must set limits with her and teach her to obey. It is you who must rule the Seven Kingdoms under her name, just as Jon did, until your Stark children can take the Iron Throne from the Targayens once and for all. Their name and house will remain, but the blood of the dragon will be replaced with that of the wolf, and Westeros may finally be ruled by a proper family."

The position he was in had honestly never occurred to Killian. Someday he would indeed be king, and there was always the possibility that his wife would fall into madness just as King Aerys had. "My children will never have my name. Dani put it into law that the Targaryen name must be passed down, regardless of whether it comes from a mother or a father. There will never be a Stark king. Even my wife will still be referred to ask a Targaryen in her public life."

"Laws can be overturned. Mark my words, Killian. Emma is the last true dragon."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

When Lord Stark finally returned to his room he was pleased to find Emma fast asleep in their bed. He undressed, taking in all the little details of her face. Pale skin, silver hair, delicate lips. His cock twitched at the memory of what those lips had done, how she had gagged on his cock. He crawled beneath the sheets and settled on top of her.

"Emma." he said softly, "Emma, love, wake up for me." He kissed her cheek and then her neck causing her to stir slightly with an adorable little mewling sound. He kissed his way down her body, opening her nightdress so that he could nibble her breasts into hard points. Her body began to writhe and pathetic whimpers escaped her. She murmured his name as his tongue found her bundle of nerves.

Emma's hand came to his head, gripping him by the hair tight, but he could tell she still wasn't awake. He sucked on her clit long and hard before finally entering her with a finger which he quickly crooked in the way that had proven most effective with his princess. When he began to rub at her favorite spot she came alive. Her moans echoed around the room, growing louder and louder, then turning to shrieks as she finally woke from her heavy slumber. At first she was frightened and tried to push him away but Killian slid his free arm under her leg and held her to his mouth.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

When she finally settled he kissed his way back up her body slowly without ceasing his forceful ministration inside her. He kissed her lips hard and began to thrust his fingers deep into her. Then he added another and ruthlessly rubbed at her clit. She cried out but he commanded, "Come for me, Emma."

He was hitting that spot again, the one that made her eyes go cross and her legs shake uncontrollably. She shocked even herself by falling instantly at his command, letting the orgasm rip through her like a hurricane. Her screams most likely woke the whole castle. It was intense, and felt slightly different than the others. There was a release and she felt a flood of moisture spray from her core as her muscles clenched around his fingers. At first she was mortified. There was a large puddle beneath her and she began to cry of embarrassment but was stopped by her husbands elated laughter. She looked at him. He was smiling ear to ear like a boy who had just received a present.

"Well, would you look at that." he practically sang, still moving his fingers inside her, already working her up again, "My dragon princess is a filthy whore whose beautiful cunt weeps for her husband. I bet you didn't even know that your body could do that. Again." he instantly demanded, thrusting harder and massaging her clit once more.

Emma was afraid to do it again. She didn't know what was happening. It was one thing to experience uncontrollable pleasure, but to lose bodily function was terrifying. She had never felt so dominated. "Please, no." she begged.

"Yes." he said firmly, "This time will be bigger. Don't resist it. Just relax and let it take you. Don't hold your breath, breathe through it. It will be frightening but I swear that it will not harm you. Do you believe me?"

Emma nodded and began to feel the pulsing and fluttering within her. "It's coming." she keened.

"That's a good girl. Give yourself to me, Emma."

This time, as the agonizing waves rolled through her insides and her body released more of the clear substance, Emma sobbed with joy and thanked him, actually thanked him for giving her such intense and all-consuming pleasure. This time she fought the urge to faint, enjoying every contraction of her inner walls until it was finally over and she lay weak and spent.

"W-what was that?" she asked wearily.

He laughed, happier than she'd ever seen him and kissed her deeply, bringing his hand up to hold her firmly by the back of the neck. "That, my sweet, sweet wife," he said when they finally separated, "was me finding out that I am the luckiest man in all of Westeros. Come," he crawled out of bed and brought a blanket over to her, "Let's sit by the fire. I'll send for a maid to change the sheets."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

When Emma was snuggled into Killian's embrace, the thick furs keeping them warm, she stroked his stubble, which had left her center red and tender. "Your hair is black but your beard is red." she observed.

He smiled at her, "Aye. My grandmother was a Tully you know. Famous for their red hair, stubborn natures, and ill-fated marriages.

Emma laughed. The firelight flickered across his face. He was so very handsome. Before she could speak again he kissed her languidly. He had cleaned her, but she already felt a fresh rush up moisture dripping down her legs which she eagerly wrapped around him. He chuckled, "Not tonight. Your body is still adjusting. It needs rest. I've been very selfish with you."

She bit her bottom lip as their noses brushed, "Will that happen every time?"

"Unfortunately not. Or at least, it's very unlikely. Only happens on very rare occasions, and only certain women are capable of it. Usually whores."

She frowned.

"It's not a bad thing!" he said quickly, "It just means you're even more special than I could have ever imagined." He kissed her again, leaving her breathless.

"Now what are you going to do to me, my Lord?" she asked cheekily.

"Call me Killian." he replied, "Unless we're in bed, where I am your Lord Commander, I want you to call me Killian."

Emma tested the name out on her tongue, "Killian." she giggled, "It's possible that I prefer 'Lord Commander'. Does that sound nice? Fuck me harder, Lord Commander, or, may I please have another, Lord Commander."

Killian spanked her arse with an open palm causing her to yelp. The pain went straight to her clit causing it to throb. He kissed her again, groaning as if in agony. "You are making it very hard to resist fucking you until you can't walk. You'd have to explain to everyone that you must be carried everywhere because of what your husband's cock does to you every night. They'd sing songs about the relentlessness of my lovemaking. What would your mother think of that, your Grace?"

"I would tell you to call me Emma but you've been doing that without my permission for quite some time now."

He nipped playfully at her lips. "You're lucky I don't simply introduce you as my wanton whore who takes showering me with love quite literally." She smacked him on the shoulder and covered her face to hide her blush, but he forced her arms apart so that he could look into her eyes. "Emma," he said, suddenly serious, "I know that you did not choose to marry me of your own free will, but I hope that I will make you happy. I admit... I have no clue what a happy marriage looks like, but I swear to try. And for your own sake I hope that you can learn to love me, just as I am certain I will soon be absolutely infatuated with you."

"You mean you're not already?" she asked sarcastically, and his eyes blazed with amusement and joy.

"I am the infamous Bastard of Winterfell." he said proudly, "No woman has ever stolen me heart, though many have tried. I do have a reputation to uphold."

His words were playful, but Emma could see a sadness in his eyes. He was telling the truth, he had never been in love, and that made her sad, for even she had fallen in love with the occasional prince that came to court her. This time Emma kissed him. When they parted she was smiling ear to ear, "My body and heart are yours, Lord Stark. Do with them what you will."

"Killian." he corrected gently, and moved to leave a love bite on her neck.

"Killian." she muttered, giving into the pleasant sensation.

They fell asleep in front of the fire, wrapped in each other's arms. Emma's cheek was snuggled into his disheveled black hair, her legs wrapped around his. It was one of the happiest moments in her entire privileged life so far, and in her dreams she thanked all the gods for a husband she knew she would soon grow to love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you have questions about this fic or any of my others feel free to ask them in a review or better yet on Tumblr (Hooks-and-Happy-Endings) so I can share the answer with everyone since many of you have been asking the same things. The response to this has been awesome!


	4. The North Remembers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after a lot of thinking about what I want this fic to be I have decided that I want it to stay true to the brutal world that is GoT. There's a theme in the show that I've always loved which is that at some point every character does something horrible that makes you hate them, and at some point they do something that makes you love them. Remember the Tywin/Arya friendship when she was posing as his cup barer? Admit it, you liked him for just a second. Or when Jaime killed his cousin to escape Rob? They all have dark sides and they all have some good in them (except for that cunt Joffrey of course), and I don't want Killian and Emma to be the exceptions to that because in the show, there are no exceptions (except for Joffrey). So, going forward, please know that while I do promise this story will have a happy ending and many happy moments (unlike GoT), Emma and Killian's relationship will not be a cliche romance. It will be dysfunctional and flawed. Remember when Jaime raped Cersei next to their dead sons body in the sept? Expect a similar level of fucked upness because if I turned this into a cookie cutter ff romance I just wouldn't be doing the show justice. Unfortunately I will likely lose readers after this next chapter, but I think this is the right decision. Especially after learning that G.R.R.M. actively discourages ff because it always 'waters down' his world.
> 
> This chapter contains violence and brutality.
> 
> Understanding this chapter requires a lot of backstory and I did my best but explaining the whole thing just made the writing clunky so if you have any questions feel free to ask either in a review or (preferably) on Tumblr so I can share the answer with everyone.
> 
> Also, no I did not spell 'sir' incorrectly. That's how they spell it in the books.

It took one week for Emma and Killian to make port and another week to travel from Deepwood Motte to Winterfell. The Wolfswood was dark and frightening. Emma slept in Killian's arms almost the entire time, jostling slightly as their carriage made it's way along the road. He stroked her hair and told her stories about his childhood. She even convinced him to sing her a few songs.

Winterfell itself was very imposing. The castle was ancient. The Starks had ruled over the North for thousands of years and their home was a true fortress. It had withstood many battles, protected many generations of Stark men. It proved to be just as cold and barren as Emma had always imagined, though she didn't much mind. At night she and her husband would snuggle together under the thick furs of their bed and make love until they were both spent.

She met Obsidian just moments after arriving. The wolf was larger than she could have dreamed. Dire wolves were extinct south of the wall, but she had heard stories. There were songs about Greywind, Rob Stark's wolf that fought next to him in battle, and of course Ghost, her grandfather's loyal wolf whose fur was white as snow. There was a statue of him in the gardens at Kings Landing. Emma had never really believed that a wolf could be so large, but Obsidian came up to her shoulders. His black fur was surprisingly soft and when she ran her fingers through it a chill went up her spine.

"I will never tell him to harm you." said Killian, stroking her back reassuringly, "Don't ever be afraid."

Killian surprised her by allowing her to sit in on all his council meetings. She respected his authority by only giving her opinion when asked, and they fell into a comfortable routine. Though war was on its way, the North was peaceful, and matters of state were boring. A horse thief at the Dreadfort, a fire at Moat Caitlyn. Life was simple and both Emma and Killian were very happy, until one fateful day when four children were brought to Winterfell.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

"Lord Stark, Princess Emma, I am sorry to have come unannounced but something has come to my attention that must be dealt with immediately." Lord Karstark stood before the council at Winterfell before the entire court. His fur trimmed cloak wasn't as grand as Killian's, but he was wary, for the Karstarks were an old and proud house with a history of rebellion.

Killian absentmindedly petted Obsidian's head as the wolf chewed loudly on a bloody cow femur, "There's no need for formality, Brandon. We are family. Tell me, why have you come?"

Lord Karstark gestured at his guards who left the room. "My men were searching a village near Karhold for a rapist that had been terrorizing my lands." His men re-entered and with them were four bound prisoners. A teenage boy, two younger boys, and a girl who Killian guessed to be about six. "We found these children living together. They say their father was a fur trapper, but he died along with their mother a few months ago."

Killian eyes the children. All of them were thin and shaking, though not from the cold. They had blonde hair, which was not as rare as his wife's silver white waves but unique all the same. "What is this, Brandon?"

Lord Karstark took something from one of his guards. A scabbard with a sword inside. He pulled the sword from its sheath and lay it on the table before Killian.

Killian examined the weapon. "This is Valyrian steel." he said in bewilderment.

"Aye, my lord." Lord Karstark nodded.

Killian spoke harshly to the older boy, "There are only six of these blades in all of Westeros. How did you come by this weapon?"

"He stole it!" the lord proclaimed, "It's the only way!"

"But how?" asked Maester Samwell from his seat beside Killian.

"I dun't know." the Lord answered.

"I know this sword." said Emma.

Killian turned to his wife and asked incredulously, "You do?"

There was a fire in her eyes that he had only seen once before. It had been in the throne room of the red keep when she'd threatened to cut out his tongue. She was staring at the sword with fury in her gaze as she grasped the gold pommel and stood from her chair. The large ruby embedded in it's hilt glinted menacingly as Emma stepped onto the table and leapt down on light feet, then stalked towards the children, sword in hand.

"Emma-" he tried but she stopped him with a raised hand. He looked around the room which was full of the Targaryen guards that had come with her. There were less of them than his own men, but they still made him uncomfortable.

Emma spoke to the teenager, "They say all the best swords have names. Do you know the name of this sword?"

"N-no, your Grace." he answered, "We found it, I swear on all the gods."

She was silent for a moment, then she asked the next boy, "What about you, young man?" he shook his blonde head as well. Emma moved to the youngest boy who looked to be no more than eight. She brought the blade to the boy's face.

"Emma," Killian cautioned, "we should question them in private."

Emma ignored him as she asked the boy, "Do you know the name of this sword, little boy?"

The boy looked to his brother, then shook his head, avoiding her eyes.

"Maester Samwell." Emma said to the old maester of Winterfell, "I'm sure that due to your extensive studies you are familiar with all the great Valyrian swords of Westeros."

Killian watched his maester carefully. The man was frightened. He knew something that Killian was desperate to catch on to. "Y-yes, your Grace." he answered.

"And which of those swords has a ruby set in a gold pommel?"

The maester hesitated, allowing a deadly silence to feel the room, but finally replied, "Widow's Wail, your Grace."

A gasp went through the great hall. Killian felt the blood drain from his face. He looked at the children, watching their faces as the reality of it all sunk in. Emma leaned down to look into the youngest boy's eyes. "Emma, darling," Killian chuckled nervously, "come sit down so that we can discuss this."

Without so much as turning her head she instructed her guard, "Ser Dane, if my husband interrupts me again, break his legs." Killian gripped tightly the arms of his chair. He felt panic rising up within him as Emma spoke softly to the little boy, "What's your name?"

The boy looked to his brother who nodded, indicating he should answer, "Leon, your Grace."

She smiled, "Leon, did you know that it is a great crime to lie to your future queen? The penalty is death."

Fear overtook the boys features. Killian looked at the knight standing beside him whose hand rested intentionally on the pommel of his sword. Ser Dane was a legendary fighter, like his father. There was nothing he could do.

"Leon, tell me the truth." she brought the tip of the blade to the boy's cheek, "Did you get this blade from your father?" After a long moment, Leon nodded. The crowd murmured feverishly. Killian looked around at his men. He had more, but they weren't there. His thoughts raced as Emma said to the court, "There is only one explanation for why four peasant orphans would have this sword. They are the grandchildren of Tommen Baratheon and Margery Tyrell." The chatter in the room grew louder as she continued, "They are the descendants of traitors and usurpers, of murderers and treasonous cunts!" She looked back at Killian then. He pleaded with her with his eyes, begging her not to do this. "They must die."

"No!" Killian stood. He took a deep breath, "I am Lord of Winterfell. I make the decisions in my home. Now come here, wife, will discuss this matter in private."

Emma's mouth remained in a straight line and for a moment he thought she would listen to him, but then she said to her guards, "Take them. Kill anyone that tries to stop you."

The room was instantly filled with the sound of scraping metal as the Stark guards drew their swords. The Targaryen men drew there's as well and faced those wearing the wolf sigil. The crowd was in a frenzy. Killian's men got in their stances, prepared to fight. "Wait!" he shouted desperately trying to prevent bloodshed. "Emma, you will not do this in my house. Order your men to put away their weapons this instant, I command you!"

"And take my husband to the kennels." Emma added, "If he wishes to share a bed with something that obeys him he can sleep with his wolf tonight."

Ser Dane moved towards Killian but was stopped by a snarling Obsidian. His hackles were up, his teeth were sharp, Killian knew the wolf would tear through anyone that touched him. "It's alright boy." he cooed, and said to the guards, "I'll go. Stand down men!" he shouted. His men hesitated, eyeing the Targaryens. "I said, _stand down_!" There was no point in a massacre. He would have to wait until she calmed down. As he was being taken away, Killian eyed his wife. What he saw was not the woman he had grown to love. The look in her eyes was strength and will power. Rage and fury. Fire and blood.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Killian Stark woke sometime in the early morning to find Emma sitting outside his cage. The light from a single torch cast flickering shadows on the dirt floor where she was drawing nonsense in the dust. "This is where Sansa Stark killed her husband." she said, "He beat her and raped her and skinned her friends while they were still alive. When Jon Snow came to drive Ramsay Bolton out of Winterfell, Ramsay starved his hounds for seven days, did you know that? He intended to set them on Jon. The Battle of the Bastards, they called it. But when Ramsay was defeated, Sansa had him put in these kennels, and she watched as his own hounds ate him alive."

"Emma," he said, crawling over to the bars, "Emma, listen to me you cannot kill these children."

When she spoke her voice was calm and clear, like the night sky just before a storm at sea. "After what Robert Baratheon did to my family, you expect me to allow his descendants to live?"

"Tommen Baratheon wasn't even a Baratheon! He was a bastard, born of Cersei and Jaime Lannister, everyone knows that!"

"What about his brother Jofferey? Your uncle, your grandmother, your aunt, they stabbed your unborn cousin while he was still in the womb and left his mother to bleed out on the floor! Rob Stark was butchered on the order of King Jofferey. Those monsters sewed his wolf's head to his body a paraded him about like a piece of meat. That's your blood, Killian! Betrayed by their allies and slaughtered at a wedding like pigs! The Baratheons and the Lannisters are the reason you don't have a family!" He tried to speak but she continued, growing more furious by the second, "Do you know how that sword was made? After mutilating Rob they took Ned's great sword. Ice had been in your family for thousands of years and they melted it down to make a toy for Jofferey to torture with."

"Emma, please," he pleaded, slipping his fingers through the bars, "have you learned nothing from the mistakes of your family?!"

"The only mistake my family ever made was allowing Tommen's son to slip through their fingers after King's Landing was taken."

He huffed, so frustrated with her stubbornness, "The only reason you're even alive is because Ned Stark refused to murder two innocent children just for being Targaryans. He let your grandmother and her brother Viserys live because it was the honorable thing to do. That's why people loved him. That's why they followed him. That's why they died for him! Do as he did. Be merciful. Banish these children. Let them live out their lives in Essos."

"Do you hear yourself?!" she hissed hatefully, "You want me to allow them to live just as Ned did my grandmother? Danaerys Targaryen was banished to Essos, but she didn't stay in Essos, did she? She returned to Kings Landing, with a thousand ships, four armies, and three dragons!"

"That was different! Your grandmother had a legitimate claim to the Iron Throne! House Targaryen had ruled the Seven Kingdoms for over three hundred years! The Baratheons were nothing more than usurpers! They are not a threat to you! Why do think they haven't left Westeros already? They have no friends across the Narrow Sea. Their house will die either way."

"Then what's the difference?"

"What's the difference?!" he was screaming now, "You're asking what the difference is between condemning the distant relatives of an old enemy to a penniless existence and murdering children?!"

"And what about Aegon and Rhaenys? They were children, too. Murdered in their beds just for being Rhaegar's heirs. Do they not deserve justice?"

"They have received justice. Tywin Lannister gave that order and he is long dead. Robert Baratheon the usurper is _dead_. Jofferey, Tommen, Jaime, Cersei, they're gone, all of them!"

Emma got up and walked to his cage. She slipped her slender finger through the bars and when she spoke, her voice cut through the night like Valyrian steel, "The Lannister lion and the Baratheon stag nearly destroyed both our houses. The blood you and I share was almost wiped from the Earth because of them. The fact is, Robert's Rebellion was a popular one. As long as his heirs are alive, bastards or not, they are a threat to my future reign. I cannot allow them to live."

Killian's heart broke as the realization overwhelmed him: He had been an utter fool. His wife had not a tender heart, but the fiery and cruel spirit of her ancestors. He stood to face her, "You would hang that little girl, simply for the crime of being born?"

Emma laughed, and the sound struck him like a whip, "Hang them?" She looked him in the eye, her purple irises shining in the dark, and with a hint of a smile she said, "I'm a Targaryen, Killian. Targaryens do not hang their enemies. We are the House of the Dragon. Our words are fire and blood. I am not going to hang them." then, with hate and malice in her very breath, I'm going to burn them alive."

She turned, walking away before he could reply. "Emma, don't do this! Please, you're making a mistake!" he screamed after her, banging his fist on the bars, "EMMA!"

KEKEKEKEKEKE

Emma stood in the castle yard observing the pyres being built. Ser Dane stood beside her, his silence deafening.

"Do you have something to say, Ser Dane?" She looked at him expectantly, but he said nothing. She sighed, "Your father was one of my grandmother's most trusted advisors. Some even claim he was her _most_ trusted advisors. They say that he was the one who convinced her not to execute every master in Slaver's Bay. He counseled mercy and restraint. If I were Danaerys Targaryen, and he were here today, what would he tell me to do?"

The knight was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke it was firmly, and with conviction, "I did not know my father, your Grace, but I hear he was a good man. A kind man, who valued honor. He would tell you to spare these children, to banish them."

Emma seethed. She did not want to hear such things, but he wasn't finished.

"However, it is worth noting that the masters of Essos are currently on their way to wage war on the Seven Kingdoms. You have your grandmother's mercy to thank for that."

Emma nodded, "So be it."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Killian sat in his cage, Obsidian pacing anxiously in the small space. He covered his ears as best he could, but he could not block out the screams. They cried out for their mother as the flames took their time burning their flesh. He could smell it, like roasted meat. The stench made him vomit. He was helpless to stop it. To think he had believed that he had tamed a dragon. The Mad King's blood flowed through her veins. She was a wild beast. He had thought that she loved him, but how could such a creature even be capable of love?

 _No_ , he thought. He had seen it in her eyes. She cared for him, at the very least. he was certain of that.

"My lord!" called a voice from out of the dark.

"Podric!" Killian thanked the gods. Ser Podric Payne was the head of his house guard and a loyal friend. Pod had served him since the day he was born and his mother Arya before that.

"My lord, you have to do something. She's ordered that every goldenhead in the North be questioned and searched."

"Listen to me," Killian hissed, knowing they didn't have much time, "I have no power as long as my house is filled with Targaryen guards."

"What can we do? They answer only to her. They could kill us all if she gave the word."

"You're exactly right, Pod. Which means we have only one choice."

Podric's face drained of color, "My lord, we can't! It's treason! The queen will send an army to protect her daughter."

"No, she won't. The Essos armies are nearly at her gates. She can't defeat them without my men and the Iron Born fleet and she certainly can't afford to wage a war with both the North _and_ the masters."

"War? Would it come to that?"

"It wouldn't be the first time the North has risen against a Targayen ruler. Emma and I have a very long life ahead of us. I cannot spend it at her mercy. She must be reigned in. I can teach her, I can control her. I just need her men out of the way."

Podric nodded in resignation, "Aye, my lord. I'll give the order."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

"I was told that you wish to beg for forgiveness." Emma had ordered Lord Stark be brought to her room so that they could speak in private. She had done a lot of thinking, and now knew that she could not allow her husband to hold power over her. She was to be queen. He was just a lord. A great lord, but that was all.

"Emma." he said.

" _Your Grace_." she immediately corrected, holding her chin high. He looked gorgeous in the firelight of their room. The flames were behind him, framing him in a heavenly glow. She briefly recalled falling to sleep in his arms after their nightly passion and wished to be back there, under the furs.

"Your Grace," he said. Emma's stomach dropped when she saw the devilish grin spread across his face. He began to stalk towards her, like a wolf after prey. She tried to stand tall, but the glint in his eyes was imposing, even as he said the humble words, "I have been a fool. It's not an easy thing for me to admit, but it's true. I have insulted you in front of your subjects, I have disobeyed your direct commands, and I have attempted to manipulate you for my own purpose."

She was shocked. More than that, she couldn't reconcile the sincere apology with the predatory expression he now wore. He was standing close to her, and she felt the backs of her legs touch the foot of their large canopy bed. Then, Killian shocked her once more, by falling to his knees.

"Forgive me, your Grace. You are my queen and have been since the moment I laid eyes on you. I wish to swear eternal fealty to you and your reign, so that I may be allowed back into your bed, and your heart."

Emma's breath caught in her throat. She had not expected this. The Starks were proud men. They had been kings in the old days, before the Targaryens came to Westeros, and since that time they had bowed to very few. It empowered her, seeing the son of the famously stubborn Arya Stark at her feet. "Go on."

"I have been," he huffed a laughed, still grinning, "a disloyal subject. I have disrespected you and disobeyed you, Please," he said, looking up at her with cerulean eyes as his fingers found the ties to her nightdress, "Let me serve you, my queen." He opened her dress to reveal her bare form. The heat from the fire licked her skin setting it ablaze and her nipples responded instantly. His hands were on her, touching her softly, reverently. He kissed her just above her bare mound, "Let me fight for you." then his hand slipped between her legs, nudging them apart. She was already wet for him, it had only taken seconds. "Let me pleasure you, your Grace." Killian slid his fingers through her folds but She slapped his hand away. He looked up at her curiously.

Emma reached down and ran her fingers through his silky raven hair. She mussed it lazily, enjoying the way he looked when his thick coif was disheveled. Then she entangled her fingers and gripped him tightly by the back of the head. "You will never question me in front of my subjects again."

"Never, your Grace." he winced, "I swear it by the old gods and the new. I swear it by the Drowned God, and the Many Faced God, and the Lord of Light. For as long as I live, I will never undermine you again. I am yours to command." he slid his hand across her skin and again touch her dripping quim but again she slapped him away.

After a moment of heavy silence Emma said to her husband without an ounce of inflection inflection, "Open your mouth, Lord Stark." His lips twitched with a smile. Without looking away, the great Killian Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, obediently opened his mouth. Emma gracefully lifted her right legs and placed it over his shoulder, "You wish to serve. You may, but I suggest you do not disappoint me."

With a glint in his eye he took her in his mouth and began to lick her teasingly. Emma tightened her grip, "More!" she commanded. He began to devour her, sucking and nibbling on her clit, plunging his tongue into her depths. His stubble scraped deliciously against her sensitive skin. By the time his fingers entered her she was aching for them. She leaned back onto the foot of the bed, still holding him firmly where she wanted him. He was stroking her slowly while pinching her bundle of nerves gently between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue, drawing it out, "Faster." she said with slightly less control over her tone. He began thrusting into her with hooked fingers. She was close. Her legs were shaking. Suddenly, he wrapped his arm around her leg and guided her to the floor. She began to moan as the pressure continued to build. "Don't stop!" she cried breathlessly. Killian slipped his other arm under her leg, throwing it over his shoulder as well and roughly pulled her to him. The stone floor slid beneath her and the sensations caused Emma to come hard on his eager mouth. She moaned, "Fuck me!" as her muscles spasmed within sending a wave of euphoric pleasure through her entire body, and just as the the wave was cresting, the door burst open.

"Your Grace!" Emma turned to look. Ser Dance stood there, his blood covered sword in hand, "He's betrayed you!" he shouted just before the long blade of a sword plunged through his chest.

Emma tried to react, but she could barely see through the white spots exploding in her eyes. It was too late, she couldn't stop the waves of pleasure as they wracked her body with euphoric contractions. They lasted for what seemed like an eternity, and when she finally came down from her high, panting hard it was too late.

Ser Dane was dead. Emma extracted herself from her compromising position and crawled over to her loyal servant. She cradled his face in her hands as her vision blurred from tears. He had served her mother, and then her. He had no children. He was the last of his great house. Emma wept, stroking back his blonde hair, and touched her forehead to his. Then she closed his eyes and let him rest.

When she looked up at Killian he had stood and was straightening his shirt. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand just as Ser Podric appeared in the doorway, bloodied blade at the ready.

"Is it done?" Lord Stark asked.

"Aye, m'lord. There are no more dragons in Winterfell."

Killian grabbed Emma by her hair and hauled her up from the floor, "Well, that's not entirely true, is it?" he said. Emma glared at him with all the hate and fury she could muster. He shoved her at Ser Podric who held her arms tight. "My wife has requested that I fuck her. I intend to do just that," Killian stepped forward, glowering just inches from her face, "as soon as I'm done cleaning up her mess." then he said to the knight "Tie her up. I want her bound and helpless. She will wait for my cock just as those children waited for their deaths."

Emma screamed after him as he left, "You will pay for this bastard! I will burn Winterfell to the ground! I will burn every castle in the North! I will light the biggest fire this world has ever seen and the Bastard of Winterfell will be the last of his name!" He turned the corner but she wasn't done, so she screamed louder, "BEWARE LORD STARK, YOU HAVE WOKEN THE DRAGON!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm anxious to see how many people continue to read after this. If you've decided this story isn't for you, do me a favor and let me know in a review. If I've alienated everyone with this I may consider going in a different direction, but for now I think this is the right choice. Again, I welcome any and all questions on this site or on Tumblr (Hooks-and-Happy-Endings).
> 
> I'll leave you with the promise that this is still a CS fic, and I have every intention of continuing to explore their love for each other which is very much so still there, as fucked up as that is. Welcome to GoT.


	5. The Stark Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So since the season finale quite literally blew up my premise allow me to do a bit of retconning. In my universe, Queen Margery escaped the Sept just before the explosion and was pregnant with Tommen's son at the time. If only that was what actually happened. RIP to the only girl that ever bested Cersei. Of course it was your time to go. You were one of my favorite characters and that meant your time was up.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is sticking with this story. I know the last chapter was rough but don't worry. There is fluff ahead.
> 
> For those of you saying that Emma is completely ooc, I respect your opinion, but I think you're forgetting completely about the Dark Swan arc. When I wrote the scene of Emma screaming at Killian I envisioned the one in the show where she screams at Regina and throws her out of her house. My Emma is a mixture of the savior and the Dark Swan. It's simply been translated into a struggle between her Stark blood and the Targaryen blood that's in her. Also, I think some of you are forgetting that Emma and Hook started out as enemies. I loved that era. That scene where he taunts her through the bars of Rumple's cell has more sexual tension than most of their kisses (which is saying a lot). And lastly, all AUs have to be a little ooc because the characters have gone through different life experiences. My Emma didn't grow up an orphan, she grew up a princess, therefore her personality would be very totally different and so would her relationship with Killian. So, if you're looking for a story that is a clone of canon CS, this is not it.
> 
> That being said, I think you will enjoy this very short chapter. It's much easier to swallow than the last.

Killian entered his room. Emma's handmaiden had kept the fire going all through the night and he was glad. He had worried about her getting cold the entire time he'd been gone. She still wasn't used to the North and her teeth chattered often. Despite it all, he couldn't stop thinking about her, even after he had spent the entire day stopping the mobs from tearing each other apart in the streets. Some people wanted Emma's head for what she'd done. Others supported the execution of the Baratheons who's reign was divisive, even in the North.

Killian looked over at the bed. She was asleep. Emma looked so peaceful in her rest, her white hair framed her face like a halo. Her wrist and ankles were bound to the four corners of the bed, just as he'd instructed. He removed his fur trimmed cloak and then unbuckled his sword. Only once he was down to only his light sleeping trousers did he make his way over to the bed.

She stirred when he stroked her face. Her eyelids bobbed as she rose from her slumber. "Emma." he said softly.

When she saw him her eyes grew fiery and bright, "You bastard!" she screamed tugging on her bindings, "You have defied me! You have slain my men! You have-"

"Emma, can't you see that I did that for your own good!" he shouted sternly, "Burning people alive is how your family lost the Iron Throne in the first place! Aerys Targaryen had a peaceful and prosperous reign until he started setting his enemies on fire, and then he was stabbed in the back by his own Kingsguard!"

"King Aerys was betrayed by a man who swore an oath to protect him. My men would never betray me."

Killian's anger peaked at her stubbornness which was proving to be absolute. He leaned over her and gripped her tightly by her hair, "Listen to me, Emma. I will not allow you to make the same mistakes as your great grandfather. I will not stand by and watch as you damn your reign before it's begun, because if you continue down this path, if you abuse your power and torment your people, if you let your emotions control you, _they will take you from me!_ "

At that her face softened and he could he tell he was not saying what she'd expected.

He continued, "I don't care about the Seven Kingdoms. I don't care about the Iron Throne. I care about you. I will die protecting you, if it comes to that, but I can't fight them all." He moved his hand from her hair to her cheek, "I cannot risk losing you to a rebellion. I won't. So, I don't care if I have to leave you tied to this bed for the rest of our marriage, I refuse to let you do something that bloody stupid again." he kissed her chastely on the lips, and to his surprise her mouth slightly molded to his. "You are mine." he said, "No one is allowed to touch you, save for me. But if they come for you... my sword alone will not be enough. Do not force me to watch you die at the hands of your own people. I fear it's something I wouldn't survive."

A single tear rolled down her temple and he kissed it away. "I'm sorry," she said, with a sniff, "I shouldn't have done that, I should have listened to you."

"It's ok," Killian replied softly, running his fingers through her hair, "Shhh, It's alright."

"I'm afraid." she cried, "Don't let them take me, Killian!"

"I won't!" he said, kissing her again, "I won't. You are going to stay right here, with me." He couldn't stop kissing her, and punctuated every phrase with a brush of his lips, "You're going to be my dragon queen, and you're going to be loved by your people. More than Dani, more than Rhaegar, more than any Targaryen that ever lived."

"Untie me!" she gasped against his lips.

"No." he said firmly, "You have to learn. You have to remember this lesson so that you never do it again." He began to untie her dress. When his hands found her skin it was like a parched man drinking water. He felt every inch of her as their lips danced.

"I want you to take me." she sighed when his mouth found her neck, "Here. Now."

Killian chuckled even as he sucked a bruise onto her porcelain skin. He planned on making many marks on her tonight. He needed everyone in Winterfell to know that she was still his. "I will, darling," he said, nibbling on her ear, "but I have to punish you."

"Yes, Lord Commander." his wife said, without hesitation.

"Will you do as you're told tonight?"

"Yes."

He smiled and touched her bundle of nerves which was already swollen and ready. "Will you take I give you? Will you come when I order you to?"

"Yes, yes!" she cried as his fingers moved quicker.

"I won't be gentle." he panted in between furious kisses, her compliance working him into a frenzy, "I'll push you as far as I can."

"I want it," she breathed, "I want you! Please, fuck me!"

He had intended to go slow. To tease her, to gradually work her up until she was begging for it, but he couldn't wait another second. He made sure she was wet enough, then he lined himself up and thrust into her fast.

Emma cried out. He tried to catch his breath. She was so tight. She hadn't been ready for him. He gave her a moment to stretch, something he never did with women, then he began to move. Killian tried to hold back, he really did, but the little moans and whimpers she was making were too much. He began to fuck her deeply. His arms slid under her's and he grasped her firmly by the shoulders so that he could thrust even harder into her. His lips found her neck again, marking her as his property. It felt so incredible to be inside her, to feel her body wrapped around him. Killian decided right there that he wanted this every night and morning for the rest of his life, and that he would gladly go to war to keep her safe and in his bed.

Killian thrust harder. He was so angry with her. He was angry that he now knew he would spend the rest of his life saving her from herself. Her moans got higher and higher as he punished her with his cock. For a moment he was worried he might break her, but just then she shattered around him before he could even tell her too.

When she came it caught him off guard. Her orgasm hit her hard. She clenched around him, triggering his own fall but he continued to thrust into her until he was sure the pulsing of her body had stopped.

He kissed her sweat soaked brow and pulled a knife from beneath his pillow. As soon as her legs were cut loose they wrapped tightly and his waist and her arms did the same to his neck. They kissed messily. He growled hungrily into her mouth, aching for more already.

When they finally settled down he pulled her under the furs and wrapped her tightly in his arms. "Tell me about your mother." said Emma, "They sing songs about her in the South. I heard she was a great warrior."

He chuckled, "You know I didn't actually know my mother." She gave him a knowing look, so he told her, "My mother was an adequate warrior. She was a better assassin." Emma face lit up in an adorable way so he continued, "After her father, Ned, was beheaded she escaped Westeros and went to train with the faceless men of Bravos."

"Is it true that she could change her face? That she could look like anyone?"

"Aye. It's true. My mother knew the ancient magic of the many-faced god. She swore that she would kill King Joffrey for executing her father, Walder Frey for betraying her brother Rob at the Red Wedding, and Cersei Lannister for..." he laughed, "well, I think she just wanted to kill Cersei for being a cunt."

"Cersei accused Ned of treason after he threatened to expose her for baring bastards with her brother. She was the reason he was beheaded." Emma said.

He smiled, "Yes, my mother had many grudges. It's a shame someone else got to Joffrey before she did."

Emma was smiling up at him. It made his heart sore to see her so happy. "Let's sleep, my love. Tomorrow I want to show you something."

She fell asleep quickly, never loosening her grip on his neck. Killian breathed in the scent of her. It was calming, like the sea. He listened to her soft breaths until he too succumbed to sleep, and in sleep he dreamt of snow.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

The next morning, Killian brought Emma to the godswood.

"I've never seen a heart tree." she said, voice full of awe, as she walked along the grass to the enormous white tree, "Melisandre had the one at Kings Landing cut down after Danaerys took the throne."

"Here in the North we worship the old gods. These faces," he said, running his fingers across the mouth and eyes embedded in the trees bark that bled red sap, "were carved by the Children long ago, and when the First Men came, they adopted the religion instead of fighting it, as the South did."

She was nodding, "My grandfather worshipped the old gods before the Lord of Light resurrected him at Castle Black."

"I hear Jon Snow never stopped worshipping the old gods." said Killian playfully.

Emma slipped her arms under his cloak and wrapped them around his waist. She whispered to him conspiratorially, "I hear that, too." he smiled as she added, "He was a Stark, after all."

Killian laughed, "He was also a Targaryen. Didn't they worship the Seven?"

Emma pulled him down to sit with her on the ground at the tree's roots. "The Seven haven't been very powerful since Cersei destroyed the Sept of Baelor with wildfire."

Killian looked up at the vibrant red leaves that covered the white branches above him as they fluttered in the chilled wind. He tightened Emma's cloak around her. He'd had it made specially for her. It was black, and trimmed with the hide of a red fox whose fur bore the colors of her house.

"Why have you brought me here, Lord Stark?" she asked, looking out over the small pond before them.

He took her hands and tried to massage the cold out of them as he replied, "My mother didn't worship these gods. She only believed in one god. The god of death. She didn't pray to him, she didn't honor him with feasts or festivals. She told me that there was only one thing to be said to the god of death." Emma looked up at him expectantly. Killian whispered with a wink, " _Not today._ "

She smiled and reached up to scratch at his scruff, then her face fell, "But how could she have told you that if she died when you were born?"

"My mother was very old when she became pregnant. She was no fool. She knew that she would not survive the birth, so she wrote me letters."

Emma's eyes widened in surprise, "How many?"

He smirked, "Quite a few."

"Well, what did they say?" she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

"She talked about her life. Told me the story of how she avenged her family after returning to Westeros. The true story, not the one from all the songs. She told me about her time at Kings Landing, about the day her father was taken, and how she escaped by cutting off her hair and posing as a boy."

"She was very lucky."

"Well, they say we Starks are hard to kill."

After a moment of reverential silence Emma asked, "Why did she... try to bare a child at such an old age?"

He laughed sadly, "She didn't. My mother thought she was barren."

"Why?"

"She was stabbed in the stomach as a young girl."

"Is that why she never married?"

Killian hesitated, "No."

Emma snuggled deeper into his embrace, "Did she tell you who your father was? In the letters?"

"No." Killian lied, "That, I'm afraid, is a secret Arya Stark took to her grave."

"That's a shame." she mumbled.

Suddenly, Ser Podric appeared in the quiet clearing. "Not now Pod." said Killian harshly. He wished to be alone with his wife for a while longer.

"My Lord, I'm afraid it's urgent."

He sighed heavily, "What is it?"

"A raven came for you, my Lord. A raven from the queen."

At that his ears perked up, "Good news, or bad?" he asked warily.

Pod answered, "The masters of Essos have reached Westeros. They have laid siege to Kings Landing."

"My parents," Emma asked, frightened, "Are they alright?"

"The dragons are protecting the Red Keep, your Grace. And the city walls have yet to be breached. They are safe for now but they're requesting more men."

"Send as many as the North can spare." he looked down at Emma who was shaking again. "Leave us, Pod."

"M-my Lord," Ser Podric stuttered nervously, "there was another raven. A _white_ raven, from the Citidel."

Killian felt his bones turn to ice, "News from the Arch Maester?"

"Aye, my Lord." Killian waited as Podric took a large gulp and said, "This summer is over."

The great lord gripped his shivering wife tightly. This summer had lasted twenty years. Emma had known nothing else in the entirety of her life. "You mean..." she said meekly.

"Aye, love." Killian answered, speaking the words of his ancient house, "Winter is coming."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, this chapter was a shortie, but I just felt it needed to end there. Thanks for reading! Your reviews brighten my day. If you have any questions you can ask them here or on Tumblr. If I haven't gotten to your PM I'M SORRY THERE ARE A LOT! And since many of them ask the same thing I'm trying to move those queries to Tumblr. The next update will come soon but I need to update Bless Me, Captain first because it's been a week. Thanks for your patience!


	6. The Bastard of Winterfell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is pretty kinky. Rough sex, dom/sub, dubcon, and exhibitionism.
> 
> To clarify: Emma is 23 years old. She was born during a winter that lasted three years so she doesn’t really remember it.

“Eight!” Emma yelped as her husband’s hand connected to her rear with a loud smack. He gently rubbed the tender skin afterwards, dancing the tips of his fingers up and down the backs of her legs. When he spanked her again, the sensation went straight to her core as she cried out, “Nine!”

 

Killian chuckled darkly, “Such a good lass. Heir to the Iron Throne you may be but here you are, spread out for me on all fours like a good wolf-bitch.

 

“Just get it over with.” she snapped, and when he spanked her again she bit her lip to keep it from coming out as a moan, “Ten!”

 

Killian grabbed her waist and kissed her hip as she turned in his arms. He crawled on top of her, their naked bodies sliding deliciously against each other. Stroking her face he said, “One for every time you interrupted me during the council meeting yesterday. I would have punished you last night but I was so bloody tired.” 

 

Making preparations for the war council had taken up most of his day, but Emma had known what awaited her when he finally returned to their bed. She had been very disobedient, even going so far as to chastise him in front of his entire council. The fire in his eyes had sent a chill down her spine and she’d eagerly anticipated how she would atone.

 

Unfortunately, when Killian had stumbled in late into the night he had fallen asleep immediately and her punishment was delayed until the morning. Their little arrangement was something she both loved and abhorred. It excited her and often led to incredible sex, but the humiliation of being spanked like a naughty child nearly pushed her to her limit.

 

Still, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. His stubble roughed up her lips but it felt so good, she thought that she could drown in his kiss. When they broke she was breathless. “Easy, love, or I’ll never leave this bed. I do have responsibilities.”

 

“Anything more important than me?” she asked coyly.

 

He replied, “Nothing in this world.” and kissed her on the nose. “There is, however, something we must discuss. The Northmen do not respect the crown. That’s a fact. It is very important that they believe I have you under control. They need to see that you’re mine. If I tell you to do something you must do it without question.”

 

Emma thought for a moment, “Controlling the North will be essential to maintaining a peaceful reign. It’s the reason I married you in the first place. I will be obedient in front of your bannermen, if that is what you think is best.”

 

He smiled and she smiled back. They were happy. Emma had almost enjoyed giving herself to him over and over, letting him take all the responsibilities and pressure off her shoulders. She fought back, but that was their game. Back and forth they danced until she was a worthless, incoherent puddle, begging for mercy and shaking from head to toe. Afterwards he always soothed her tender parts. He would have ice from outside brought to their room and use it to cool her pink skin.

 

He left that morning and she got dressed. Her handmaiden moved to cover the love bites on Emma’s neck with face cake but she stopped her. “Leave them,” she said, “so his men can see.”

 

She went to see the blacksmith, with a very important weapon in tow.

 

“Eddard?”

 

The man turned around. He was older than she had expected. Probably approaching sixty. “You the princess?” he asked gruffly? His accent was thick and distinctly southern.

 

Slightly thrown off, she cleared her throat, “I am Princess Emma of house Targaryen. I heard that you are the only blacksmith in the North who knows how to rework Valyrian Steel.”

 

Eddard eyed her almost suspiciously. “Do you have it?”

 

She placed the heavy sword wrapped in furs on the smith’s workspace. “It’s name is Longclaw. It was Jon Snow’s sword.”

 

When the package was unwrapped Eddard seemed to drift away. His eyes crawled over the sharp edges and artistic details that created a true masterpiece. “This sword is perfect, why would you want to remake it?”

 

“I want it engraved.” then she added proudly, “I’m going to give it to my husband on his name day.”

 

Eddard made an appreciative face, “He’s a lucky fella. Then again, I hear Jon gave this sword to his nephew on his death bed. Seems like it took a while to get here.”

 

“Killian isn’t Jon’s nephew, they were cousins.” she snapped, “Jon only had one daughter and Snow only had me. This sword was being held for my son, but...” she drifted off, thinking of the look on Killian’s face when she would present him with such a fine gift. He wouldn’t punish her that night. He would reward her. The thought made her toes curl. She came back to herself in time to continue, “but I want Lord Stark to have it. I think it belongs in the North.”

 

Eddard smirked,. “Arya would have agreed.”

 

“You knew Arya?”

 

“I did. I’ve been the blacksmith at Winterfell since Lady Sansa died.”

 

“You must be good.”

 

“I apprenticed in Kings Landing.”

 

Emma nodded as he ran his fingers down the edge of the blade. “Yes, I can tell by your accent.”

 

He said suddenly, “I can do it, but I’ll need a few things.” He pulled out a piece of parchment and began to scribble on it. “You’ll need to get them from the Red Woman.”

 

“Melisandre?!” Emma balked, “She’s in Kings Landing.”

 

“Your parents have sent her to Winterfell to watch over your while they are under attack. She’s on her way here now.”

 

Emma’s brow furrowed in confusion, “I haven’t received a raven--”

 

“They couldn’t risk it being intercepted. Melisandre and I have known each other for many years.”

 

She sighed, rolling her eyes, “She always did have friends in strange places. Well, what do you need from her?”

 

“Valyrian steal was forged with magic. I need magic if I’m going to rework it.” He continued to write his list.

 

It turned out to be a very long list and Emma found herself wandering around the smith. There were all kinds of weapons and armor. She became especially fascinated by the details of an unfamiliar bull sigil on a breastplate. “So... Eddard...” she tried conversationally, “Do people call you Ned?”

 

“Only my lady.” he answered.

 

At that Emma scoffed, “You’re not married?”

 

“No, your Grace.”

 

She pressed on, “It’s a fine name. Says a lot about you.”

 

“I didn’t choose my name, your Grace. Don’t see how it could say much about me.”

 

She laughed at his cleverness even if it was inappropriate to speak in such a way to a princess. “You’re right. Our names only say something about the person who named us. Who gave you your name, Eddard?”

 

He waited a long time before answering, “The only woman that ever loved me.”

 

“What’s this?” asked Emma suddenly, “A sword for a child?” she picked up the small saber that was only a little longer than her arm.

 

“Put that back.”

 

“I could use this!” Emma began swinging the weapon about like she’d seen the knights do at the jousts. Eddard was across the room and grabbing it from her in an instant. “How much is it?”

 

“ ‘at’s not for sale!” he snapped, “Here.” He practically shoved the list at her, “Get this to that red bitch. Bring me what I need and I can make your sword.”

 

“Thank you, Eddard. I look forward to seeing the results of your work.”

 

Emma left with her list clutched firmly to her chest. She couldn’t wait to present Killian with his gift. The fur cloak he’d had made for her hung heavily over her shoulders, keeping out the chill. She smiled, thinking of the long nights ahead. Winter would mean more time in bed with her husband, and that she didn’t mind at all.

 

**KEKEKEKKEKEKEKE**

 

Killian was having a wonderful time. All his bannermen had gathered in the great hall at Winterfell to discuss battle plans. He was sending half of his men to reinforce the Targaryen host at Kings Landing and he was leading the other half to White Harbor where a battle was raging in the bay of the Bite between the Ironborn fleet and Essos invaders. He wanted to be there with his men should the enemy make landfall.

 

As soon as business was done, however, the high lords of the North demanded that the festivities began. They were going off to war after all. Death could be just a few days away. The ale was poured freely and Killian had the best girls from the local brothel brought in. Their clothes were lost within minutes of entering. His men were like ravenous dogs, touching everything they could get their hands on, but not Killian.

 

He was no fool. Even if he wanted to be unfaithful to Emma, a part of him was smart enough to fear her reaction should he get caught. Still, the naked woman on his lap was reminding him of the old days. He would have done terrible things to her back then. The sorts of things his men were doing just now. Instead all he could think about was doing those things to Emma. He imagined her cries. Gods, the sounds he forces her to make drive him crazy.

 

“Are you going to fuck me, my Lord?”

 

Killian shook his head away from his lecherous thoughts. He realized that the naked whore on his lap had noticed the erection the thoughts of Emma had brought on. She was looking at him eagerly. “Get off.” he grunted gruffly shoving her away. There was skin everywhere. He could smell the sex in the air. He wanted to fuck something alright, but there was only one thing that would do. “Bring me my wife.” He said to Ser Podric who was lost in the kiss of a buxom brunette. “Podric!” he snapped. Podric blearily turned to his lord. “Find my wife wherever she is and bring her to me, now.”

 

Catching onto the serious tone in his voice the knight hurried out of the room. Killian hoped he was quick. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. The need to have and take. It always came before battle. He needed to ruin something. To break something. 

 

A dragon would have to do.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

When Emma entered the great hall she thought Ser Podric had made a mistake. The room was filled with the most vulgar sounds. Lips smacking, skin slapping. She followed the knight up onto the dais where Killian sat looking pensive, but when he saw her, his face lit up. “Emma!” As soon as she was close he grabbed her by the waist and roughly pulled her onto his lap. Before she could react he was whispering in her ear, “None of these whores suit me. You’ll have to be my whore tonight.”

 

Her stomach dropped. His tone was gravelly and dangerous, almost a growl. She stuttered, “I-I-I... I shouldn’t be here. It’s inappropriate.”

 

He surprised her by spanking her upper thigh, “I’ll decide what is appropriate for my wife to do. Men!” he called out over the crowd. Slowly the entire room came to turn its attention on him. “Who will play dice with their Lord Commander?!” A host of men cheered and made their way over to the table. When they were seated, Killian explained the rules. “Mates, I believe that I have married the most beautiful woman in Westeros, and I intend to prove it to you. We play for gold, but every time I win, my incredible Valyrian beauty will do something to prove that she is without a doubt the most beautiful creature that ever lived. Aye?”

 

“Aye!” they all cheered. The whores came and settled on their laps while Emma frantically tried to make sense of it all. They were playing a game of dice she didn’t understand. They whooped and jabbed and pushed around coins until everyone cheered and all eyes turned to Emma. The men were leering, the women were giggling and her husband was looking at her like a hungry animal. “Emma, darling, let these men see how beautiful you are.”

 

She froze completely as he untied her nightdress and pulled it apart, baring her for the world to see. Her nipples instantly turned to points in the frigid air. She tried to cover herself but Killian wouldn’t let her. Instead he palmed greedily at her breasts and nipped at her neck. The feelings were all very confusing. She was repulsed and humiliated, and yet her body craved his touch.

 

“My, my, Lord Stark,” said Lord Karstark, “you certainly have that Targaryen better trained than the last time I was here.” All the men at the table laughed.

 

“Aye, she’s learned her place.” Killian replied, continuing the game. They played on until a much larger pile of gold sat before him on the table. 

 

“She’s certainly beautiful,” said Lord Glover, “but I prefer Dornish women.”

 

Killian met the challenge by scooting his chair back far enough that they could all see him, then he slipped his hands between her wet thighs.

 

“No!” Emma gasped pitifully, and everyone laughed. Killian whispered soothingly in her ear, “I want to show them how lucky I am. I want the entire North to sing songs about you. Open your legs for me, Emma. Don’t be afraid, I won’t let anyone hurt you. I want them all to see you obey me.”

 

Finally, Emma let him spread her legs. The whole table erupted in cheers.

 

“Where in seven hells are her cunt hairs?” asked Lord Reed.

 

Killian laughed, “The Valyrians removed their body hair. She’s always bare for me. If you’d like to see what she does with her cunt we can play another round.”

 

“AYE!” They all cheered.

 

The game began again. Round and round they went until Killian’s pile of gold was even larger than before. By this time many of the men were pleasuring or being pleasured by their girls, so once Killian had won he simply reached between Emma’s thighs and ran his fingers through her folds. “You can’t deny a part of you enjoys this. You’re soaking wet.”

 

“I can’t help it.” she whined miserably.

 

“I know.” he said, and entered her with a finger, “It’s how I know you’re going to fall apart all over my fingers in front of all my men.”

 

“No,” she cried, “please don’t!” But he was already moving inside her. He forced another finger inside and began to rub at her favorite spot until she was moaning softly in his arms. Some of his men blatantly watched, most kept their attention on their own women. Emma was trying desperately to hold back but her muscles were beginning to spasm. When he began to rub her bundle of nerves it sent her over the edge. She couldn’t suppress the moan that left her when she came. Everyone cheered. Some men even threw gold coins at her as if she were a whore.

 

When she came down she realized they were playing again, and again her husband was winning. They were all clearly letting him win, of course. When a great cheer went up she knew it was time again. By this time he was drunk. He stood, pulling her up with him and yanking her dress off of her. He bent her roughly over the table so that she was lying right in the middle of their game. She could hear him untying the laces of his pants.

 

“Seven hells, Killian! You take a princess like a wolf takes a bitch?” asked an incredulous Lord Manderly.

 

“I take my wife anyway I like. Now give me those dice.” Killian snatched up the dice and held them in front of Emma’s face. “Moan on these, will you, darling?” then he entered her suddenly, causing her to moan helplessly onto the dice. Everyone laughed heartily at the sound.

 

As her husband began to thrust inside her, he rolled his turn, and the game commenced around her. She tried to contain her sounds but he was being very rough. His thrusts were hard and angled purposefully in the way that made her see stars. The men were cheering and singing all around her while Killian dominated her before their very eyes. He was fucking her so hard the table was shaking and yet he still managed to win the round. “Oh, Emma,” he slurred, “Look at all the gold you’ve won me.” he laughed drunkenly, grabbing a handful of gold coins and letting them rain upon her silver head just as she came again with a cry. She clenched around him, riding it out on his large cock. Everyone cheered for her final submission as he emptied himself inside her and sagged on top of her.

 

She expected him to fall back into his chair but instead he swept her up and swung her over his shoulder. “I think you lads have seen enough.”

 

When they reached their room Emma slapped him. When he did nothing but laugh she slapped him again. “You bastard! How dare you--” Killian kissed her hard, holding her arms so she couldn’t fight back.

 

“Mine.” he breathed possessively into her lips, “The dragon princess is all mine and now everyone knows.”

 

“You made me look weak.”

 

“That’s exactly what the Northmen want, Emma. The only Targaryen queen they will ever support is a weak one.”

 

She sighed, “I want to be more angry.” and let a smile quirk at her lips.

 

He grinned, “Let me make it up to you, your Grace.” Killian then pushed her down on the bed and settled between her legs, breathing her in. He pulled her legs over his shoulders and pulled her to him, making her whimper.

 

“Killian!” she cried suddenly, grabbing him by the hair, “You’ll come back to me, won’t you?”

 

He looked up at her with sincere blue eyes, “Aye, Emma. I will return to you, no matter what it takes.” and when his mouth touched her skin she moaned his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in a review or on Tumblr! I’m quickly approaching 100 followers on this fic on ff.net so if I reach that I’m thinking I’ll do some prompts perhaps? So send them my way!


	7. The Blood of the Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super short and very fast paced but it moves the plot along. Enjoy!

Emma was trying to keep quiet, she really was, but her husband was making love to her in a way he never had. Killian had her pinned against a wall in some dark recess of the castle and was working her up with long, languid thrusts. His lips only left hers to take desperate, hungry breaths and the sounds of their love echoed off the stone.

 

“We shouldn’t be doing this here. Someone might catch us.” she gasped in between kisses.

 

He scoffed, “You act as if we’re doing something wrong. I am lord of this castle and I will fuck my wife wherever I please.”

 

He seemed intent on making the moment last. Every time she could tell he was close he would slow down, delaying his release. She knew why. Once it was over, it would be the last time for a long time. He was off to war, and her heart ached at the very thought of his impending absence.

 

When he finally emptied himself inside her she reveled in the warmth that coated her walls. She hoped that a future prince was inside her, though the signs hadn’t come yet. She wanted to have a piece of him, should he fail to return.

 

Their formal goodbyes were said in the castle yard. He made a show, kissing her possessively and whispering vulgar things in her ear to make her giggle like a young girl.

 

Emma refused to cry. She watched the war caravan head off into the rolling hills. She wanted to go with him, but he was right. She didn’t know how to fight, she didn’t know anything about war, she was no use on the battlefield. Without anything to offer she would just be a liability, so she let him go.

 

Emma nearly froze to death every night. The temperature had dropped drastically. There weren’t enough furs in the world to keep her warm. She craved the warmth of Killian’s body against hers. So many times she thought about defying him and riding to White Harbor. But no. She would just distract him. Her place was at Winterfell.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

One day, Emma was woken early by Maester Samwell. “Your Grace, I’m sorry to disturb you but there’s a delivery of plums from Dragonstone.”

 

“Dragonstone?” she yawned, “Plums don’t grow on Dragonstone. Nothing grows on Dragonstone.” She shivered in the cool morning air and thought of the rocky island on which she was born. She had visited it a few years ago to watch her dragons hatch, but hadn’t spent much time there.

 

“As lady of Winterfell the uh... delivery requires your inspection.”

 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” she groaned, “let the kitchen staff take care of it.”

 

Samwell stuttered, “Lady Stark--”

 

“It’s YOUR GRACE!” she barked.

 

“YOUR GRACE YOU MUST COME INSPECT THE DELIVERY AT ONCE BEFORE IT INJURES SOMEONE!”

 

Emma’s eyes flew open. She sat up in bed, turning to the maester, “Dragonstone, you say?”

 

She was out of her bed and flying down the stairs in an instant. The kitchens were in the basement, but her delivery was waiting in the great hall. How they had gotten the enormous crates into the castle she didn’t know, but there they were. Two crates of plums piled high.

 

“Take them apart.” she ordered the guards who quickly pried the wood apart until the four sides fell to the floor. The plums rolled across the room revealing two large wooden boxes within the crates. Emma nodded for them to continue. As they approached the first box a frightening screech went out over the room. The space fell deadly silent. It was a distinctly inhuman cry, like no animal any of them had ever heard. One of the boxes shook violently. Emma smiled.

 

While the others backed away, she approached the screeching boxes. She grabbed onto the bolt of one of the boxes and slid it away, opening the door.

 

A gasp rippled out as a red dragon nearly bigger than Obsidian crawled out of the box. Emma quickly opened the second one letting a purple dragon escape as well. The two creatures cantered curiously about the room inspecting the people who fled in fear.

 

“Their names are Valyrys and Danaerion!” she announced proudly, “They are friendly... mostly.” She turned to the maester, “How many days ride to White Harbor?”

 

“Three, your Grace.”

 

She smiled, “Prepare my horse and ready whoever is left in this castle that’s fit to guard me. I leave for battle at midday.”

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

Emma nearly killed her horse to get to White harbor. She was pleased to find that her dragons had no problem keeping up. They had grown quite a bit since she’d seen them when they were just hatchlings. They were well trained. She couldn’t wait to see them in action.

 

When they finally arrived, she found a city under siege. The Masters were at the gates, just minutes away from battering their way in. Emma and her men stood atop a hill, her dragons shrieking restlessly at her flanks. She looked at one, then the other, then she commanded them both, “ _Drakaras_.”

 

Immediately Valyrys and Danaerion flapped their leathery wings and leapt into the air. She smiled as she watched them soar. It seemed she was useful after all.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

“HOLD THE GATE!” Killian shouted over the chaos. His men were doing their best but they were weary. It had been weeks with no sleep or time to eat. No matter how many slave soldiers they defeated, more washed up on their shores. They were running out of arrows and the battering ram was making progress. He stood in the castle yard with his sword, ready to face the enemy, but just as the wood of the door was beginning to splinter, he heard a sound unlike any he had heard before.

 

“DRAGONS!” he heard from the battlements just as flames shot through the air. He heard screams of agony and death erupt on the other side of the wall. Quickly he climbed to the top, taking the steps two at a time. What he saw on the battlefield that day was a sight indeed.

 

Two dragons the size of stags flew through the air setting the slave army ablaze. The foreign ships in the harbor were torched in a matter of minutes. Killian watched in awe as the battle was won in the blink of an eye. He looked to the hill where his dragon princess sat atop her steed, and in that moment he realized that he knew exactly how he felt about his wife. Their marriage may have been arranged, but he was hers. Now, and forever.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

Killian raced to his wife as fast as he could. She had barely dismounted from her horse when he threw his arms around her waist and lifted her into the air. He kissed her passionately and for a moment the entire world fell away.

 

“I have missed you terribly, your Grace.” he whispered into her ear and punctuated his declaration with a nibble that sent chill bumps down her neck. He smiled as he felt the delicate skin raise at his will.

 

“I have missed you as well, my Lord.”

 

He spoke in a hushed voice, “I can’t wait another moment. I have to be inside you, now. Hurry to my bedchamber, take off your clothes and wait for me there. I won’t be long.”

 

She grinned happily and scurried away. He heard a screech from the sky. Looking up, Killian saw the two dragons that had surely saved his life. He would forever owe them a debt.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

Later that night Lord Stark was fucking his wife so hard he nearly broke the bed. It was the fifth time that day, or perhaps the sixth. No matter how many time he acheived release his body demanded more just minutes later. He simply couldn’t get enough of her. She was drained, he could tell. Orgasm after orgasm had left her spent. They grew more intense each time, and at the moment she was muttering pathetic pleas for mercy. He’d never even used a whore so ruthlessly, but after weeks without her his body ached for her.

 

When he was finally satisfied they lay beneath the furs in the light of a crackling fire. She hovered on the border of sleep and wakefulness. Her eyes were droopy from exhaustion and guilt overwhelmed him. Killian feared he had pushed her too far.

 

“Are you alright, darling? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have--”

 

“It’s alright.” Emma muttered and smiled blearily up at him.

 

“I’m taking you out onto the bay tomorrow,” he said, “just the two of us. The ship will be ready by noon.”

 

“That sounds lovely.” she replied sleepily as she began to drift off.

 

“Rest, my love. I’ll keep out the cold.” He wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her close. As her eyes closed he kissed her silver head and sang a sea chanty from his childhood. He was going to tell her tomorrow. He couldn’t wait. He wasn’t sure if she felt the same, but either way, he wanted her to know.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

They set sail on a small craft just as the sun was reaching its peak. The air coming off the water was frigid but the heavy furs seemed to be keeping Emma warm. He held her constantly, just to be sure. She got sick a few times but eventually acquired her sealegs, just as he knew she would. She was strong, his princess. Strong and fierce.

 

As they sailed into the bay known as the Bite, Killian began his confession with Emma pulled tightly to his chest so say he could say the words in her ear as she gazed over the water.

 

“I love you, Emma.” At that she turned, putting her forehead to his. He continued, “I’ve known it for a while now,” he laughed, “possibly from the very beginning, but my time away from you has made it all the more clear. I was a truly worthless commander. All my thoughts were wholly consumed by the memory of your touch and your voice and your affection. All I could think about was getting back to you.”

 

She smiled demurely, “I was so worried. I don’t know what I would have done if--”

 

Killian interupted her with a kiss. “Don’t ever let those thoughts take hold, Emma. I told you, we Starks are hard to kill.”

 

Emma turned in his arms and reached up around his neck, “I never thought I could love a Northman,” she said, “but here I am.”

 

Killian grinned from ear to ear, but allowed her her subtle admission, “Must run in the family.” he said with a wink.

 

They spent all day on the water, only returning to port at sunset. They were met at the dock by Stark guards.

 

“Princess Emma,” one said in simple greeting, “you have a visitor.”

 

Emma looked at her husband quizzically, then asked the guard, “Who?”

 

“The Red Woman, you Grace.” he replied, “She said you were expecting her.”

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

“I was expecting you at Winterfell.”

 

Melisandre stood before Emma in the great hall of White Harbor Castle. She had requested that she receive the priestess in private. There was never any predicting what she would say.

 

Dressed all in red, with red hair down to her naval, the Red Woman spoke, “I was not told to go to Winterfell, your Grace. I was instructed to find you, wherever you were.”

 

Emma stomach dropped. There was only one thing that gave Melisandre commands. She wasn’t ready to hear the news, good or bad, so she redirected, “Why is it that a blacksmith is aware of your plans and I, your sovereign, am not?”

 

Melisandre remained calm, as always, and spoke evenly, “Eddard is a trusted associate. I needed my voyage to remain secret, though he would have told you, had it become necessary that you know.”

 

“I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark.”

 

“Which is exactly why I have come, your Grace. I have received a message in the flames.” Instead of ellaborating she said, “Your husband, he will make a good king.”

 

Emma cleared her throat, “I believe so, too.”

 

“Then I have good news.” said the witch with a clever smile. She walked up the steps to where Emma stood, “The Lord of Light has spoken. The Targaryen dynasty will live on.” she placed a hand on Emma’s stomach, “You are with child, princess,” she smirked, “and it’s a boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Please leave a review, I get all paranoid when I don’t get very many because it might mean I’ve dragged this on too long.


	8. The Fire Within

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter. This one is nice and smutty. For those of you concerned that Emma’s pregnancy is going to lead to endless fluff and less smut: Pshhh, you guys have clearly not been paying attention.
> 
> Because of some recent reviews I have to address the fact that this fic IS NOT FOR EVERYONE!!!! It includes dubcon elements, rough sex, humiliation, and is definitely a dom/sub relationship. If that’s not your thing, first: I don’t know how you even made it to this chapter, and second: Don’t judge other people because they like things that you don’t. I repeat: IF YOU ARE NOT INTO DUBCON DO NOT READ THIS FIC!!!!!! I make no apologies for my work and bashing it in a review is not going to fix whatever problem you think I have. If you do leave such a review, I won’t be removing it because I am not ashamed of my preferences. No woman should be judged in that regard.

“I heard that kidney pie was your favorite.” Emma said when Killian entered the room. She had instructed the servants to prepare a meal in their bedchamber so that she could speak to him in private. She would make a formal announcement soon, but she desperately wanted to enjoy her husband’s reaction when she told him.

“It is. Pot Pie makes the best in all of Westeros.”

“Pot Pie?” she asked, serving him a slice.

He explained, “The cook at Winterfell. Have I ever told you the story of how he came to work at the castle?”

“No.”

“Well, he was born a peasant in Kings Landing but was sold to the Nights Watch when he was a boy. He befriended my mother who was the same age when a friend of the family smuggled her out of the city after her father was executed.”

Emma nodded, sitting down, “She disguised herself as a boy and traveled with the Watch to escape Joffery.”

“Aye,” he replied, digging in, “She and Pot Pie narrowly escaped the Kings Guards that slaughtered the other recruits. They made it all the way to the North before they were separated, but she never forgot him. When she became lady of Winterfell my mother found him again and made him the cook. He’s been there ever since.”

She took a bite of her pie. It was good, though, not as good as the one she had eaten at Winterfell. “Two ten-year-olds made it all the way to the North? Just the two of them?”

Emma waited for an answer but only silence followed. She looked up from her food. Finally, he answered, “Aye.”

She smiled, “Well, I hear your mother was tougher than most men.”

“I’ve heard that as well.” he laughed.

They ate their hearty meal, talking and laughing in the light of the crackling fire until finally their plates were bare and the servants had taken away the scraps.

Killian laid in bed, naked as always, and blatantly ogled her as she undressed. “Come here.” he commanded. Emma eagerly obeyed, scurrying over to the bed. He grabbed her roughly and pulled her down, manhandling her until his hips were settled between her legs. “Are you ready to be taken, princess?”

She smiled coyly, “How will you take me tonight, my Lord?”

“I will take my little dragon whore the way she likes.” he purred, “Hard and deep, until she’s been thoroughly used.”

She giggled as he kissed a mark onto her neck, “Use me. I’m yours.”

“You are mine.” he growled, hooking his arm under her left leg and throwing it over his shoulder while rubbing circles against her bundle of nerves to get her ready. “Your royal cunt is all mine. And I do believe you disobeyed me by leaving Winterfell. I supposed I’ll have to punish your cunt for that.”

Emma bit her lip in anticipation, “I suppose so.”

He thrust into her suddenly and without warning, burying his cock so deep she could feel it in her stomach. She made a pathetic little noise at the intrusion but breathed through it, relaxing her muscles. “That’s a good girl.” he cooed, “You’ve gotten very good at taking it all.” he began to move, wasting no time picking up the pace. “Do you like my cock when it’s deep inside you, princess?”

“Yes.” she moaned, enjoying the feeling of him bottoming out over and over again. He was gripping her tight, surely leaving bruises. 

Soon Killian was pounding into her, the sensations bordering on painful, but the orgasm that ripped through her was anything but.

“Would you like another, your Grace?”

“Yes!” she cried

He took her even harder. She screamed. It was too much, but she loved it. Her body was pushed past her limit as she peaked again. “Ask permission.” he commanded sternly, “Ask permission or I’ll fuck you harder.”

But Emma couldn’t get the words out fast enough. She cried out as she fell. “I’m sorry!” she sobbed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, please, no more!”

Instead he threw her other leg over her shoulder and spanked her three times, “Disobedient wives don’t get mercy.” then he began pounding into her deeper than ever. The sensation was overwhelming. He was so deep she couldn’t see, but she loved it when he took control. All her life, everyone she met had obeyed her, but not Killian. No matter how much she begged and pleaded he never stopped. He was never gentle with her or subservient. When his cock was inside her she had no power. He was her commander, her king, until he was finished with her. “Come again. Come on my cock like a good girl.”

“Please, my Lord, it’s too much!”

“I’ll decide what’s too much for my whore.” He reached down and played with her until she clenched around him and let out a primal scream as he emptied himself inside her.

When it was over she was shaking violently. He quickly pulled her beneath the furs and wrapped her in his arms. He kissed her softly, nipping at her lips. His mouth was warm and comforting. “Killian.” she said when she could finally speak.

“Yes, my love?” he was planting wet kisses all over her face.

“I have have very good news.”

“Tell me.”

She took a deep breath, “We’re going to have a son.”

She felt him freeze. His body went stiff as a board and when he pulled back his eyes were wide. “You’re...” he looked horrified, “You’re pregnant?”

She smiled and nodded, “Isn’t it wonderful? Melisandre says we’re going to have a prince!” her smile quickly faded when she saw the look on his face. He didn’t look pleased. “Aren’t... aren’t you happy?”

“Emma, why wouldn’t you tell me?! Gods, what have I done?!” he was out of the bed and moving across the room in an instant. 

She sat up, confused. “I don’t understand. You... you don’t want to have children with me?”

At that he raced over, cupping her face in his hands, “Emma, of course I want to have children with you! I’ve been waiting for this news since our wedding night! I want them to have your strength and beauty. But, darling, I... I’ve used your body too roughly! I’m a greedy lover, I’ve taken too much. What if I hurt the baby?”

She laughed, “We may have to take it a little easier later in the pregnancy but I assure you, the baby will be fine. Coupling is good for an unborn child, the Grand Maester told me so.”

He was shaking his head, guilt written all over his face. “No, I took you too hard. I... I’m a terrible husband! I’ve been selfish with your body. It has to stop.”

“What? No!” she cried, “Killian I like it, I do! And I promise, our baby is strong. I don’t want you to stop.”

But Killian wouldn’t listen. He did nothing but apologize for the rest of the night, and in the morning he ordered her to stay in bed. She tried to follow him but fell to the floor when her legs gave out. She was too sore to walk.

“I’m calling for the Maester.”

Guards were posted outside her door and servants brought her meals to her bed. He could barely look at her when he returned that night and refused to even touch her.

“I can’t,” he said, “I don’t have self control, I never have. The thought of you pregnant with my child makes me want to...” his hands shook from the effort of holding himself back, “I can’t be gentle. I don’t know how.”

“You don’t have to be!” she pleaded, “Killian, I’ve spoken to the maester, he said that the baby is fine!”

But he simply wouldn’t listen. He was terrified to even look at her, so sure that he would lose control. Emma suspected that his mother’s fate had something to do with his extreme reaction, but it was damaging their relationship. He treated her as some fragile thing that he could break. At night he would use his mouth but refused to do anything more, no matter how much she begged.

Emma decided they needed to leave the North. It was safe, but not safe enough. She wanted the baby to be born on Dragonstone, her family’s stronghold, where the Targaryen host of fully grown dragons could keep her safe. They traveled by ship in a small vessel that reached the rocky island in record time, and not once did Killian dare to touch her. Emma grew depressed and lonely, but Killian’s fears were all consuming.

One night, she went to the Red Woman for help.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

“Your fires burn low, princess. What troubles you?”

Melisandre’s ruby necklace glinted in the light of her chamber. Several fire pits illuminated the room. The priestess used them to communicate with her god, the Lord of Light, though his messages had a tendency to be vague and misleading.

“It’s my husband,” she sighed, “he won’t touch me, he won’t...” she huffed in frustration, “He won’t even come near me.”

Melisandre looked concerned, “A dragon grows inside you. A future king. You must stoke the flames, or his light will be weak.”

Emma nodded, then shook her head, “But he won’t listen to me. Or the maesters, or anyone! He’s too afraid.”

“Hmm...” Melisandre hummed. She walked over to a shelf covered in bottles containing various liquids. Plucking one from the assortment she handed it to Emma. “Put a drop of this in his ale tonight.”

She took the bottle, “What will it do?”

“It will breathe life into his fire. The flames will consume his fears.”

She gulped, “And... the baby will be alright?”

“Worry not,” she said casually, sipping on her wine, “I have seen your swollen belly in the flames.”

Emma smiled in relief. Her body ached to feel her husband’s cock inside her. His mouth just wasn’t enough. She craved the release that only his forceful thrusts could bring.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

That night, Killian ate alone in the Chamber of the Painted Table. He had been avoiding Emma and the guilt was eating him alive. It didn’t matter, he refused to take her like he wanted despite the fact that he longed to be inside her. Every time he considered relenting his thoughts turned to his childhood. He wouldn’t complicate her pregnancy. What if they lost the baby? What if he lost her? He would never touch her again if it meant keeping her alive and safe.

As Killian finished his third cup of ale he sat back in his chair. The table before him was beautiful. He had heard stories of it, but never seen it with his own eyes. Aegon the Conqueror had carved it out of stone in the shape of Westeros and painted a map on its surface. Aegon Targaryen had most likely sat in that very chair many centuries ago, planning his invasion of Westeros with his sisters Rhaenys and Viscenya at his side. They were his wives as well. It was an ancient Valyrian tradition that had died out with Danaerys’ mother and father who were also siblings.

Killian’s thoughts turned to his own wife, with her long white hair and her bright purple eyes. His cock twitched as he was unwilling thrown into a vision of her writhing beneath him. He groaned, asking the gods for the images to stop, but they continued. He heard her cries, felt her spasming muscles as she came around him.

His cock was hard now. Hard and aching for her. And just as he was about to take himself in hand, she walked through the door.

“Am I disturbing you, my Lord?” Killian looked up. He knew that he should leave. She was beautiful, absolutely stunning. He wanted to cover her skin in marks. He had left some on her inner thighs but it wasn’t enough. He liked to leave them where everyone could see. She approached him, wearing a striking red dress with a plunging neckline that revealed her swollen breasts. He was speechless, his body in agony as he held himself back. She gently lifted his chin, “Killian, I need you.” she said, and he nearly lost consciousness as she untied her dress to reveal herself. She wasn’t yet showing, but it wouldn’t be long.

His hands shook. He wanted so badly to touch her, but he knew what would happen if he did. He needed release, the feeling was overwhelming. “I... should go.” he stuttered, but made no move to leave.

Emma responded by straddling him and settling her bare mound over his hard cock. He moaned when she moved, his head falling back against the chair. She leaned in to whisper, “Fuck me, Lord Commander.”

Killian was breathing heavy. He put his hands on her hips intending to push her off but when she let her dress fall from her shoulders and onto the floor he only gripped her tighter and began controlling her movements. “I can’t... Emma, please, I’ll hurt you.”

She silenced him with a kiss, “I need your cock, Killian. I need you inside me. Please.”

He latched onto one of her breasts, flicking it with his tongue until she was moaning loudly. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to be inside her or he would burst.

Standing up quickly, Killian threw her onto the table and pulled her to the edge. He cursed loudly, “Please, Emma,” he begged, “I won’t be able to control myself, I’ll... I’ll be too rough.”

His princess shocked him by pulling herself up and slapping him hard across the face. “I am Emma of House Targaryen. You are in the ancestral seat of my family and you will do as I command.”

Something snapped in him them. In an instant he grabbed her roughly by the hair  and flipped her onto her stomach, forcing her arse in the air. He spanked her hard until her porcelain skin was pink, “How many times am I going to have to punish you for defying me?” His beautiful dragon whore was already wet for him. The site of her thighs glistening in the firelight was too much to bare. With fumbling fingers he undid his laces and pulled his engorged cock from his trousers. He balked in horror at the sight. It was visibly throbbing and larger than normal by nearly half. He panicked, “I... I can’t!” he said, “Something’s wrong it’s too large!”

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

“Fuck me!” Emma demanded, “Fuck me or I swear to all the gods I’ll burn you alive!”

 

That was all it took. Killian slammed into her so forcefully the breath was knocked out of her and she had to gasp for air. It was true, he was larger that usual. Larger than any man naturally would be, she imagined. She supposed it must be Melisandre’s potion at work.

 

He waisted no time in thrusting into her again. She screamed at the stretch but the pressure on her favorite spot was immense and in only a few deep pumps she was coming hard. Her muscles clenched but his cock was so large the spasms were nearly unbearable. The noise she made sounded like she was in pain, but in truth it was incredible pleasure.

He didn’t stop. His hips were pounding into her, burying himself to the hilt. She came again in only minutes, this time it was harder. Her legs gave out and as he caught her she heard the sound of water pouring onto the stone floor.

He grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her up, forcing her to arch her back as he fucked her relentlessly, “You’re a greedy little whore, Emma. You haven’t even asked permission and now you’ve ruined your dress.”

Emma panicked as she felt a third orgasm building, “Please, my Lord, may I come again?”

“No.” he said gruffly, thrusting faster, “Not until I allow it.”

Emma begged, “You’re cock, it’s so big, I can’t help it!”

“If you come without my permission I will fuck you until morning. I will not stop until you’re cunt is ruined.”

“I’m sorry!” she sobbed as she came again. Her whole body shook as the euphoria washed over her in waves.

Killian fucked her through it, singing giddily, “Oh, I’m going to enjoy destroying you tonight, Emma.” He pushed her down onto the table and grabbed  something off the table. It was a marker used for showing wear armies were located. It was made of stone and shaped like a bulb with a rounded tip. Her eyes went wide when she realized what he was going to do.

“No, please!” she cried, “I’m too full!”

“You will take what I give you.” he ordered and forced the smooth bulb into her tight arse.

She screamed out as her arse swallowed the whole thing. It only made the pressure more intense and she was coming before she could stop herself. More water poured out of her. Killian spanked her, “Now your punishment will be severe.” He ripped his sword belt from his waist, and used it to tie her thighs together.

When he entered her again she cried out. Now every thrust was unbearably stimulating. “Please may I come again?!” she screamed.

“No!”

“Please, please, please, I’m begging you I--” Emma came again, making uncontrollable noises as she rode the waves before blacking out entirely.

When she came too she was on the floor, her legs still tied together but now thrown over Killian’s right shoulder. Her fucked her until sunrise, just as he’d promised. Her orgasms were beyond count and by morning she was delirious with exhaustion. When he finally untied her legs after achieving his own release he spent hours kissing her, as if he couldn’t get enough. “I love you.” he muttered, over and over, almost to himself, “I love you, Emma, please forgive me.”

Eventually, she managed to muster up enough strength to tell him that she loved him, too, and that there was nothing to forgive.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Please review, they make me so happy. And thank you for helping me reach 100 followers!! Prompt answers will be coming soon.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very short because I decided to cut the piece I was working on in half. This mostly smut, hurray! Dubcon as always, forced orgasm, and extreme pen.
> 
> For those of you trying to guess who Killian’s father is I will say that there have been two hints already, if you’re paying super close attention.

“They have breached the gates!” Ser Grendal yelled over the sound of a ram battering the door to the Red Keep. Queen Snow sat on the Iron Throne, her husband at her side. She knew that there was no hope left. The tide had turned quickly and without warning. Their defenses were gone, the enemy was unstoppable. They had no place to run.

 

“Perhaps we can escape through the tunnels?!” shouted David, but Snow did not reply. Instead she took his hand and pressed it against her face, wanting to feel his warmth one last time. He kneeled down to look her in the eye, “We can’t give up! There has to be a way!”

 

She smiled sadly at him, “It’s alright, David. Our reign is over, but our daughter will avenge us. She is strong.” A loud BANG echoed through the great hall. The door would give soon. She kissed him, “I love you.” she said with her forehead to his.

 

“I love you, too.” David replied, and when the door burst open they held each other, facing the enemy together, as they had everything else.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

On Dragonstone, Emma was falling more and more in love with her husband everyday. She leaned back, into his chest, as they gazed across the water which was unusually calm. Storms came often to the island, but today the surface was almost glassy. It reflected the sunset, with all it’s purples, pinks, and blues, and there was a cool breeze wafting off the water. Winter was coming indeed.

 

“Will our boy have a dragon?” he asked, and Emma couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“Yes,” she replied, “we’ll give him a hatchling when he’s old enough to learn to ride.”

 

She could feel his smile in the gentle kiss he placed  on the back of her head. “What will we name him?” he asked, stroking her swollen belly. It would just a one more month now.

 

“I’ve been thinking about that...” she said, “What about Aeryan? For your mother. It’s a Valyrian name but it honors her.”

 

Killian responded only by pulling her hair from her neck and kissing her there, leaving several marks. “I love you.” he whispered, before dressing and leaving to discuss battle plans at the Painted Table.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

When Killian returned that night, Emma had a surprise for him. “I want to give you something.” she said, smiling giddily.

 

He grinned, kissing her hard, “Darling, I’ve had a long day. There is only one thing I want from you.” Once her husband had gotten over his fear of harming her he had become avarice in their lovemaking. It seemed the closer to term she got the more insatiable he became.

 

She giggled, “In a moment. Go sit down on the bed.”

 

Killian did as he was told and Emma scurried to retrieve the long package she had hidden across the room. “I believe that this belongs in the North. It always has.” She held her breath as he untied the furs to reveal Longclaw, sharpened and remade.

 

He appeared to be speechless.

 

“Do... do you like it?”

 

He laughed, causing relief to wash over her, “Emma...” he took her hand, kissing her intimately on her knuckles, “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

 

She quickly knelt before him, careful to keep away from the sharp blade on his lap, “I know that I’m not... perfect, Killian... but I want to make you happy. I want you to teach our son the things that I can’t. Patience and honor and mercy. I want him to be just like you. And I want you to know that I am yours, from this day until my last day.”

 

Killian looked down at the sword and read the Valyrian phrase allowed, “ _Sōnar iksis kesīr.”_

 

She translated, “It means, _Winter is here._ ” He was silent, but the look on his face said it all. His eyes welled with tears. Gently she rewrapped the blade and put it beneath the bed. “Lord Commander Mormont gave Longclaw to Jon Snow as a reward for saving his life. When the Long Night came, he used it to kill dozens of White Walkers.” Still on her knees, she began to untie the laces of his trousers.

 

“Emma,” he stopped her, lifting her chin to look into her eyes, “I swear by the old gods and the new to use his blade to defend you and our son against all enemies. I swear to cut down anyone or anything that tries to harm you. I will never let anyone touch you, ever!”

 

“Shhh...” she reached up to cup his face, running her thumb across his stubble, “Don’t get worked up. No one can harm me here. This fortress was built with Valyrian masonry. It’s impregnable. Now, let me give you what you absolutely deserve.” She pulled his cock from his trousers and stroked him firmly, watching him grow stiff before her eyes.

 

He groaned loudly, “You have to promise to stop me if I get too rough. I don’t want to hurt the baby.”

 

Emma huffed a laugh, “You worry too much. You’ve been good lately. Gentle, even.”

 

“It’s been hard. Holding myself back has been nearly painful.”

 

She smiled coyly, “I have an idea, but first,” she pried his legs apart and settled between them, “I need my Lord Commander to give me a command.”

 

He smiled back and tangled his fingers tightly in her hair, “Be a good wife and worship your husband’s cock.”

 

Emma obediently took him in her mouth. He wasted know time in controlling her movements, forcing her to take all of him until she gagged. She relaxed her muscles, letting him fuck her throat while she massaged his balls the way he liked. Just as he began to throb he pulled her up onto the bed. When he moved to put her on all fours she stopped him. “Not that way,” she said, “You always get carried away.” Instead, Emma undressed him slowly, then herself, before crawling on top of him. “Tonight I wish to fuck you like a queen.

 

Killian looked up at her with awe in his eyes as she settled on top of him, taking every inch slowly until he was penetrating her fully. She moved her hips, adjusting to the depth. She felt impaled, but she loved it when he filled her completely.

 

“Darling,” he bit out, “please move.”

 

She laughed, circling her hips slowly, “It’s not like you to ask nicely.”

 

“Ride me like a dragon, or I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”

 

She bit her lip and began to move up and down on his cock, impaling herself over and over again. The head of his sex was hitting her favorite spot triggering spasms within her just as his hands found her engorged breasts. He pinched at her nipples until they were hard points making her moan. They were so incredibly sensitive and his touch made her body peak quickly, but she resisted the fall.

 

“Come for me, Emma.”

 

“No.” she moaned, “not before you.”

 

He growled, and brought his thumb to her bundle of nerves, “That was a command from your lord husband.”

 

She laughed, lost in the sensations, “A command I am defying.”

 

“I want to watch you fall. Do you wish to be punished?”

 

“Yes.” she moaned, hoping to antagonize him.

 

“You bloody minx.” Killian lifted her up and began pounding into her. Emma screamed out, “Is this what you want? To be fucked hard and deep?”

 

“Yes,” she cried, “yes, fuck me harder! Fuck me until I can’t walk!”

 

“Come.” he demanded, clearly fighting to hold back his own release.

 

“I won’t. I won’t give you the satisfaction. I am a future dragon queen and no man controls my body.”

 

“Your body is mine and you’ll come as many times as I desire.” He began slamming her down onto him forcefully. She couldn’t hold back any longer and cried out his name as the waves washed over her. He followed her and her pulsing walls milked his essence from him.

 

Emma pulled herself off, but he wasn’t done with her. Before she could react he had her on her back and was plunging two fingers into her. She moaned when he rubbed her walls and keened when he fucked her roughly with hooked fingers.

 

“Emma,” he said breathlessly, pausing his movements, “I need to stretch you.” She looked at him with questioning eyes until he explained. “Should you tear during childbirth you could bleed. If the maesters can’t stop it...”

 

“Killian, it’s alright, my body will stretch when the time comes. It’s all part of the natural process.”

 

He responded by pulling up her left leg and spanking her until she was begging for mercy, “You will be a good whore and let me stretch you.”

 

Finally she whimpered, “Yes, Lord Commander.”

 

“You will take my whole fist.”

 

“No!” she cried pathetically, “Please, I can’t take the whole thing!”

 

He ignored her, responding only by inserting three fingers into her cunt and pumping them into her ruthlessly. Emma enjoyed the full feeling, but when he inserted a fourth it push her past her limit. She grabbed his wrist, but he was much stronger then her. “Please,” she begged, “no more.”

 

He slowed his movements. She was panting heavily, trying to breathe through it. “Killian...” she moaned as the pain turned to pleasure, “Killian, please.”

 

He laughed and picked up the pace on her clit, “I do love it when you beg for mercy, your Grace. Are you ready for the whole thing?” She bit her lip and shook her head, “When my fist is inside you, you will come, _hard_. It will feel like too much. In order to punish you for your earlier disobedience I must draw it out but I swear I won’t let anything happen to you.”

 

He was knuckle deep now. His fingers were curled inside her and she was making noises that she never had. He twisted his hand, working it slightly past the knuckles. She felt his thumb at her entrance and held her breath.

 

“Breathe, Emma.” he cooed softly, “Don’t be afraid, you will feel immense pleasure.”

 

“I’m scared.”

 

“It’s alright, I’ll take care of you.” Emma let out a heavy breath and relaxed her muscles allowing him to insert his hand up to the wrist. She moaned and sobbed at the full feeling. It was intense. He stroked her face, “I’m going to make you come apart now. Let it take you. Everything will be fine.”

 

Before she could protest he was pounding his fist into her with fast and shallow thrusts. She screamed out, peaking almost instantly, and shook violently and the orgasm wracked her entire body with pleasure. He drew it out for what seemed like five minutes until finally she lost consciousness.

 

When Emma came to Killian was cleaning her with a damp rag. She felt used and sated, and could barely speak.

 

“My mother tore when she had me.” said Killian as he soothed her abused sex, “That’’s how she died. She bled to death. I won’t let the same thing happen to you.” Then he said sternly, “We will do this every night until the birth. If you refuse I will fuck you into submission, is that understood?”

 

Emma looked at him. He was avoiding her eyes. “Yes, my Lord.” she replied and reached down to pull him to her. She kissed him, long and deep. Their lips molded to each others and the world faded away. “I am yours to command.” she said when they parted. He smiled and pulled her beneath the furs.

 

She fell asleep with her body curled into his. His comforting breaths brought her peace of mind for she knew that her obedience made him happy, and that was all she wanted.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

Emma was soaking in the tub when her her handmaiden entered the room. Her usual girl had remained at Winterfell. This one had dark skin, uncommon in Westeros. “Where are you from?” she asked the girl and she helped her wash her hair.

 

“I was born on Dragonstone, your Grace.”

 

Emma furrowed her brow, “Where were your parents from?”

 

“My mother was born in Kings Landing.”

 

Emma turned to the girl to give her an intentionally quizzical look. She smiled, “My name is Missandei. I was named after my grandmother.”

 

“Missandei from the island of Narth? Danaerys’ slave?”

 

“She wasn’t a slave, your grace. After Queen Dany and her dragons stole her from Master Crasnus in Astapor she was freed. She served the Mother of Dragons by choice.”

 

“And your grandfather was one of the slave soldiers Dany stole as well?”

 

“Yes. The commander of the unsullied. His name was Grey Worm.”

 

Emma enjoyed the feeling of the warm water being poured over her head. Then, a thought ocured to her, “Weren’t all the unsullied... ahem,” she stuttered, “castrated?”

 

“Yes, your Grace. But Missandei and Grey Worm fell in love, and were given a child by the Lord of Light.”

 

“Melisandre.” Emma said, not needing confirmation. The Red Woman worked quite a few miracles in the name of her god when Dany first came to Westeros. Emma was about to ask another question when the door burst open. She flinched in surprise.

 

Killian stood in the doorway, a look of horror on his face.

 

“What?” she asked, dread instantly blooming in the pit of her stomach, “What’s wrong?”

 

He rushed over to the tub and fell to his knees. “Emma...” he looked helpless. It was a foreign sight, “Emma, I’m so sorry...” In his hand she noticed a raven scroll. Taking it gently she unfurled it and read the words. Her breath caught in her throat. Tears welled in her eyes. Killian delivered the news, “The Masters have taken Kings Landing! They used powerful magic to take control of the dragons! They burned the city! Your parents--”

 

He couldn’t seem to finish his sentence, so Emma finished for him. Taking a solemn breath she stated, “My parents are dead. I am queen.”

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

Emma found Melisandre in the Chamber. She paced angrily, “What can we do? There must be something! What is this magic they’re using to control the dragons?”

 

The witch shook her head, “The Masters of Slavers Bay worship the gods of Ghis. It is an ancient religion, but this magic is unfamiliar to me.”

 

“Melisandre,” Emma said desperately, “tell me what to do!”

 

“The dragons are on their way here and they will come for you. We must break whatever hold the Masters have over them.”

 

“How?!” she screamed in frustration.

 

Melisandre waited a long time to speak. “There is a way.”

 

Emma knew the way. “Tell me what you need.”

 

The fire priestess walked over to a fire pit and stared into the flames for a long while. Finally, she said in a grim voice, “Virgins.”

 

Emma swallowed her dread. Killian would punish her for this. Severely.

 

She had no choice. “How many?” she asked the witch.

 

Melisandre looked at her with her dark blue eyes, “All of them, your Grace.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! This has been so fun to write. I may be getting ahead of myself but I see this going at least ten more chapters as long as interest continues.


	10. The God of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so i cannot apologize enough for the ridiculous hiatus. in fact, I posted a pretty detailed apology on my Tumblr (hooks-and-happy-endings) and I recommend you check it out. For those of you who have stuck with me through this story: I am so sorry you had to wait this long for an update. Without going into too much detail on here (for details, see http://hooks-and-happy-endings.tumblr.com/post/148807955842/apology) I’ll just say that other project in my life took precedent over fanfiction. I’m sorry if this was frustrating for you, hopefully this won’t happen again.
> 
> With that out of the way let me also recommend you check out this AMAZING graphic (http://hooks-and-happy-endings.tumblr.com/post/148808133147/the-wolf-and-the-dragon-got-cs-au-smut-emma) by the incredible emmandhook who freaking killed it with photoshop. She also did a Killian one that will be posted with this update on Tumblr.

Killian watched in horror from their balcony as Emma’s dragons corralled dozens of girls on the beach into a shrieking huddle and set them all ablaze. His wife stood passive, never showing a single emotion. He screamed at her from where he stood, unable to leave their room on her orders. He was surrounded once again by Targaryen soldiers. He had no power in this castle. He was helpless to stop her. The fires lit up the night, reflecting over the dark water, and all hope of a peaceful transition of power evaporated into the frothy waves.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

Eddard shoved what few belongings he had into a leather satchel. He had never owned much. Growing up he never knew wealth. It wasn’t until the Red Woman came into his life that he learned of the opulent lives of nobles.

 

“You look troubled, Ned.”

 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Eddard snapped at the witch.

 

She walked over to him and took his face in her hands causing him to jerk away, but she held fast, “You shouldn’t be leaving. He needs you.”

 

“He hasn’t spoken to me in months. Not since _she_ arrived.”

 

“She is your queen.”

 

“I know only one queen!” he shouted, then softly added, “The queen in the North.”

 

Melisandre sighed, “She’s gone, Eddard. How long will it take for you to let her go?”

 

He sniffed stubbornly, then changed the subject, “I’m leaving and you can’t stop me. I know what it takes to win a war and it isn’t a dozen virgins.”

 

She eyed him thoughtfully, “You think I’m going to sacrifice you? And here I considered us friends.”

 

He laughed, “Shereen Baratheon. You remember her, don’t you? She was the young princess you burned alive to win Stannis’s war. He lost, as I recalled, despite sacrificing his only daughter to your Red God. You need King’s blood, and now that Tommen and Margery’s descendants are dead, there are only two people in all of Westeros who have your precious King’s blood flowing through their veins and one of them currently on a killing spree. I won’t wait around to be tied to a pyre.”

 

“You’re being ridiculous.”

 

“Rob Stark, Renley Baratheon, Jofferey Baratheon. My blood has killed three kings in my lifetime, and if I remember correctly you had every intention of burning me for Stannis when we first met!” he huffed spitefully, “You are not my _friend_ , Melisandre. You are a demon that has plagued me since I was a lad and I know better than to stay here with you and your fire god.”

 

“Where will you go?”

 

“South.”

 

“Melisandre had the decency to looked remorseful. Then she said, “When Stannis lost the battle to Ramsey after I had... burned Shereen I thought my god had abandoned me. Or punished me. But I later realized that the reason the sacrifice didn’t work was because Shereen Baratheon was not really a princess. Her uncle Robert was not a king. He was a usurper and nothing more. That meant her father was never a king either.”

 

Eddard eyed her warily, “Is this a trick?”

 

She smiled, “I would not deceive you.”

 

As she crossed to the other side of the room he asked her, “What if Emma finds out who I am? You saw what she did to those children, and they were the descendants of a bastard.”

 

The Red Woman ran her hand over the weapons in his workshop, “How would she find out? No one knows.”

 

“Killian knows.”

 

She picked up a small hammer and examined it, “Lord Stark loves his wife but he’s not an idiot. He would never put your life at risk by telling her that you’re Robert Baratheon’s last living son. And as far as anyone knows Joffrey killed all his father’s bastards long ago. Every boy, girl, and infant was slaughtered at once. No one in the Seven Kingdoms has any idea that you even exist.”

 

He thought it over. She could be so persuasive. Her words were silky and smooth. He wanted to believe her. His life had been one brush with death after another. He was tired of the paranoia and the fear. “She never should have told him.”

 

Melisandre replied, “She didn’t want him to be alone in this world.”

 

He was silent in his response as he thought of the girl that had taken him in. She wasn’t particularly kind or affectionate. She had terrible manners and showed truly awful decorum despite her high status. Arya Stark was no lady, that was for certain, but she was the only person that had ever cared for him, and he knew in his heart that she would be his lady until the god she honored with her path of death finally took him from the world.

 

“What are you doing with this?” the witch picked up the small saber from a workbench.

 

He was still lost in his brooding, but forced himself to answer, “Remaking the blade just as I did Longclaw. I’m going to give it to the new Prince.”

 

Melisandre examined the slender sword in the light, “You kept it all this time? Why not give it to Killian, like she wanted?”

 

He didn’t answer for a long time, then finally said, “It was all I had left of her.”

 

She turned her blue eyes to him, “That’s not true.”

 

He said, “Doesn’t matter.” crossing over to her and snatching it away, “This blade should be wielded by a Stark.”

 

She smirked, “I agree. Although, it will be a long time before he’s able to hold a sword.”

 

Eddard wrapped the blade in furs and tucked it away. “It’s not a sword.” he replied, “It’s a needle.”

 

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

Emma paced the floor of her chambers on Dragonstone. The salty smell of the sea wafted in from the open terrace but the familiar scent did nothing to ease her mind.

 

Had she done the right thing?

 

 _Probably not_ , replied the voice in her head that very rarely deigned to speak. And when it did, Emma often ignored it’s half-hearted advice. She was like her grandmother in that way, or so her mother had liked to say.

 

The thought of her mother made her pause. Snow was a good mother and good queen. She had treated her subjects as if they were her own children and they had rewarded her with their love and adoration.

 

Emma’s thoughts then found their way to her own impending reign. She had started it the same way Aegon had began his dominion over the Seven Kingdoms: with a fire. She told herself it was her birthright, that the innocent lives she had sacrificed on the beach had been martyrs for a cause so much greater than their own lives. Melisandre had assured her that the Lord of Light would honor her tribute and sever the hold the Masters and their heathen priests had taken over her mother’s dragons. She had not just saved herself, but her husband and her unborn child as well. More than that, she had saved thousands of men, women, and children from a life of servitude and degradation. Her grandmother was Danaerys Targaryen, Breaker of Chains. Emma would not disgrace her memory by submitting to Masters from a foreign land. She submitted to one person and one person alone, and only when she chose to.

 

Emma looked down at her round stomach. She imagined what her son would look like and saw a boy with black hair and sparkling blue eyes.

 

 _No_ , she thought, her child would have the silver hair and purple eyes of a true Targaryen.

 

“Are you ready for your bath, your Grace?”

 

Emma jumped at the sound. Missandei had entered her room quietly. “Yes.” she replied and stood up straight so that her handmaid could unlace her dress.

 

She must have looked lost in thought because Missandei said, “Are you alright, your Grace?”

 

Emma sighed heavily, “My husband is angry with me.”

 

“Because of the fires on the beach?”

 

“Yes,” she said, “but he doesn’t understand! This is the cost of being a ruler.”

 

Missandei’s reply was suspiciously quiet, “There are some that call the Bastard of Winterfell the King in the North.”

 

Emma was quick to respond, “There hasn’t been a Stark king since the one who knelt for Aegon.”

 

“There was King Rob.”

 

She shook her head, surprised at the insolent girl, “Killian’s uncle didn’t win the War of Five Kings.”

 

“I hear he never lost a battle.”

 

“And yet he died nonetheless.” she snapped.

 

The girl didn’t respond for a long time, “It’s a shame that Killian has no family left. He’s lost everything. No one has ever truly cared for him except for you.”

 

Emma couldn’t help but smile at the thought. She wanted to believe that she had brought love into her husbands utterly loveless existence. “It’s important to have someone.”

 

“Yes,” Missandei agreed, “But to love someone and lose them... that is a tragedy, especially when that person is all you have in the whole world. What would Killian do if he ever lost you?”

 

She smiled sadly, thinking of her mother, “You’re so young. What would you know of loss?”

 

“I lost my sister.” Missandei said, emotion making her voice falter.

 

Emma asked her, “When?”

 

“Last night.” she replied, “When you burned her alive.”

 

Emma’s heart dropped into her stomach at the words. She opened her mouth to speak, but in a flash Missandei was pointing a large dagger at her stomach. “Please--”

 

But the girl didn’t let her finish her plea. She simply whispered to Emma in perfect Valyrian, “Valar Morgulis.” _All men must die._

 

Emma screamed when the blade pierced her skin and plunged into her womb. She tried to fight but Missandei was fast. The girl stabbed her seven times before leaving her to die on the floor.

 

As she lay there, in a pool of her own blood, she remembered her husband’s warning. He had said they would come for her, he had said that his sword alone could not stop them. She had disobeyed him and been severely punished, but not by the man she loved. Not by the man she had given her body and soul, but by the realm she had promised to protect.

 

Her last thoughts were of a night months before. It wasn’t a particularly meaningful moment, just the two of them wrapped together at Winterfell. He had used his body to keep out the cold and she had fallen asleep to the sound of his breath. It was a simpler time, and she longed to be back there.

 

Just before her eyes closed at last she remembered Killian’s mother’s words. The ones she had said to the God of Death:

 

_Not today._

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

Killian wept. He hadn’t cried since he was a lad, yet here he was, face drenched with his tears at the sight of his beautiful wife, bloody and defiled in his arms. “You brought her grandfather back from the dead many times.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“You can!”

 

“I _can’t_ , Killian.” Melisandre insisted, “I don’t have that power anymore. And Jon Snow was the Prince that was Promised. The prophecy said that he couldn’t be killed.”

 

“Everyone thought Rhaegar was the Prince that was Promised. Then Dany came along and everyone changed their mind. Jon had to rise three times before even you saw him for what he was. No one understands magic. No one can predict anything in this fucking world. Now, as acting Lord of Dragonstone I command you to BRING HER BACK!”

 

He could feel the witch’s eyes on him as she said, “She should be burned.”

 

“No.” he commanded, “I want her buried in the crypt at Winterfell.”

 

“She’s not a Stark.”

 

“Jon Snow was a Stark! She has wolfsblood in her, she belongs in the North, with me!”

 

Melisandre huffed in frustration, “For goodness sake, Killian, I know your grieving but you’re not making any sense. She’s a dragon. Fire flowed through her in life and it should in death as well.”

 

He laughed, “You may have been favored by the Targayens but those inbred cunts are all gone now. If you try to take her from me I will kill you. Do you understand?” He looked back to see the Red Woman looking equal parts weary and annoyed.

 

Just then, the door burst open and four Targaryen soldiers entered. He protested but they pried her from his arms despite the blows that landed on their heavy armor. He was taken to the beach where a pyre had been hastily constructed.

 

“Please!” he begged the fire priestess, “Give me more time with her!”

 

Melisandre placed a hand on his cheek, “Fear not, Lord Stark. The fire frees us all.”

 

He fell to his knees as Danaerion and Valyrys set the pyre aflame. They circled overhead, screeching out sounds of agony and loss. Killian’s tears fell onto the sand as he watched the flames consume the only woman he had ever loved. He bellowed her precious name into the night and begged all the gods, one by one, to bring her back to him, but none answered.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKKEKEKE**

 

As dawn broke over the frothy shore Killian blearily observed his surroundings. He wasn’t sure if he had been asleep or if his mind was so numb from grief that he simply hadn’t processed the last few hours at all. In front of him was the smoky remains of the funeral pyre. Embers still glowed in the twilight, but he stood and walked towards the piles of ash like a man possessed.

 

Perhaps there was something left of her. A ring or a necklace, something for him to remember her by. He stumbled forward, tripping over charred wood and blackened sand. That was when he saw something out of place in the smoking ash. It was white and unblemished, despite the soot that surrounded it.

 

He pulled burnt wood and cloth from the pale mass lying beneath and gasped in shock at what he saw.

 

Emma was there, not burnt but seemingly untouched by flame. He reached out, not allowing himself to believe this impossible hallucination could be reality. When he touched her skin he felt tears come to his eyes once again. She felt so real. So smooth and soft, just as she always had been in life. “Emma.” he whispered, and to his surprise she moved.

 

Emma squirmed as if lost in sleep. He crawled to her and took her in his arms, “Emma?! Emma!!” he cried until she opened her eyes.

 

“Killian.” she smiled and his heart nearly burst.

 

“How--”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“And I don’t care!” he growled and kissed her hard. The tide was coming in. It splashed at his legs as they tangle with hers. Her lips were hesitant at first, most likely with confusion, but they slowly became more compliant as she melted into him. her arms wrapped around his neck and he roughly pried her legs apart. If this was a dream he intended to have her one last time, even if it wasn’t real.

 

“Wait.” she said, and moved her hands to her stomach. He felt of it and found that it was flat and unscathed. There was no more child. She cried out in horror but he shushed her.

 

“Please, Emma,” he begged, “whatever this moment is, let’s not waste it on our grief. I have you now. That’s all that matters.” he kissed her again, this time even harder than before, and his hands roamed her body hungrily.

 

He made love to her on the beach, at first fast and rough, then slow and gentle. She moaned his name, the sound sending lightening bolts to his core. It drove him wild with both lust and desperation as she begged for more. His thrusts grew harder, making her gasp. She wrapped her legs around him and he went deeper. “Don’t stop!” she cried, and he fucked her harder into the sand as the waves crashed against their bodies.

 

“Come for me, Emma. One last time.”

 

She came apart at his command, pulsing and spasming around him until he emptied himself into her warmth. He kissed every inch of her and sucked marks on her neck. “Killian,” she moaned using her legs to keep him inside of her as he softened, “this isn’t a dream. This is real.”

 

He reluctantly pulled away and looked into her purple eyes. They certainly looked real, and though he didn’t believe it, he humored her, “How?”

 

Emma looked around at the smoking ash that surrounded her and smiled, “I’m a dragon. Fire cannot destroy a dragon.”

 

He kissed her fervently, as if he could inhale her very being, until he said finally, “What happens now?”

 

She smiled up at him, feeling at his unkempt stubble, “Now, Lord Stark, my reign begins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I feel bad that this wasn’t the brain-melting smut you’ve gotten used to, but I felt the moment deserved something a little different.
> 
> I consider this the end of Arc 1 in a 3 arc story. I’ll be taking a break from this fic to work on a new multi-chapter, but I will return to it at some point. My plan is to never have more than two multi-chapters going at the same time. That will keep the updates regular and hopefully I’ll avoid unexpected hiatus’s like this one that result from being spread too thin. Keep an eye out for the new fic. In the meantime I’ll be updating Bless Me, Captain and posting some of the prompts I half-finished weeks ago. Also, no promises, but you guys may have talked me into updating my one-shot The Crooked Hook.
> 
> Thanks for being so patient with me! I appreciate all of your feedback, even the frustrated messages demanding updates since it means you’re emotionally invested in the story. That’s all a writer can ask for!
> 
> Please review! This chapter got lotsss of hate on ff.net so I'm expecting the same here.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a review. The more reviews, the more frequent the updates.
> 
> Oh, and in case you're wondering, yes this is intended to be slightly canon compliant. It simply takes place a few generations after Jon and Dani take the Iron Throne which is what a lot of people think will happen.


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